Closure and Contracts
by Lenni George
Summary: Author's Note: Now that Mike and Kate are married, I'm closing this chapter of their lives. Please see my new title of Details and Dedications for their continuing saga...
1. Chapter 1

**Schmaltz's Funeral Home**

**December 30, 2004**

**8:45 pm**

Mike Logan stepped outside of the crowded funeral home and gratefully let the cold winter air envelop him.

"Mike, you okay?" Don Cragen's voice began, causing him to turn his head quickly.

"Yeah, Don, I'm good," Logan lied.

"Looks like everyone's heading to O'Malley's…you coming?"

Logan shrugged, looking away. Feeling his former commander's hand on his shoulder he looked up.

"Come on," Cragen coaxed, "We're gonna give Lennie a true Irish wake…"

Logan felt a smile form, "Yeah, he deserves it, doesn't he?"

Cragen nodded, "I'll pour you home, if you need me to."

"Shit, Don, I forgot…"

Cragen shook his head to dismiss Logan's thought. "Just cuz I gave up drinking doesn't mean I can't sit there and remember Lennie. Now, come on, before we freeze our asses off out here."

**O'Malley's Tavern**

**December 30, 2004**

**10:30 pm**

Jack McCoy knew he'd had enough to drink, but the night was young and he wasn't quite ready to go home. Something about mulling around his empty house, thinking about life and death and being alone kept him rooted to his stool.

He studied the crowd in the bar. All of them had known Lennie Briscoe through out his NYPD career. All were there to pay his respects. He wondered how many would show up to pay their respects when his time came. He figured some of this crowd would show up. If for no other reason than to have an excuse to get shit faced. Jack laughed at that thought, causing the redhead to his right to raise a brow and look at him.

"Jack," fellow Executive Assistant to the District Attorney, Kate O'Hara began, looking up from her glass of scotch, "You're not taking your bike home."

"I'll be fine," Jack McCoy dismissed, sipping from his own glass.

"Yeah, after about six cups of coffee," she laughed.

"And you're sober?"

"I'm 20 times more sober than you," she insisted, "At least I'm not randomly laughing at my own thoughts."

"Nobody laughs at your thoughts, Kate," he dryly said, then, smiled at her.

"You're flirting with disaster, McCoy," Kate laughed. "Seriously, how are you getting home?"

"Serena's driving me," he decided, looking around the crowded bar for the blond ADA. "Wherever she is."

"Well, if she ditches you, let me know."

"Why, Kate, you mean you'd take me home?" he playfully said.

"Yeah, cuz I don't want your caseload dumped in my lap…" she shot back, finishing her drink. "I'm gonna go for another…"

"Go on, I'll be here, holding down the fort…"

Shaking her head, Kate walked up to the bar. Finding an open spot, she slipped in and leaned on the polished wood, waiting for the bartender to approach. As she did, she scanned the crowd sitting around the bar. There was an equal mix of police officers and lawyers, all of whom worked with Lennie Briscoe over the years and all of whom were there to remember him, to talk about him, to celebrate his life. Her eyes were drawn to a lone figure at the far end of the bar.

It was Mike Logan sitting alone, staring morosely into a glass of amber liquid, that she'd bet her paycheck was Jamison's. She hadn't seen him six years. Of course, it had taken her three of those six years to be able to think about him without castration coming into her mind. She studied him. He'd put on a couple of pounds and there was some graying around his temples, but on him, it looked good.

"What can I get you, Gorgeous?" Phil the bartender asked.

"Another Chivas rocks, Phil," she said, watching as he took her glass and walked off. Her eyes were drawn back to Logan. She could see the sadness etched in his features. Even though he and Lennie hadn't been partners for years, he **was** a partner once. Mike had lost enough partners, losing another would have to suck. Losing Lennie would be worse. He was a big brother, a father figure…more than just a partner to Mike. Her heart went out to him.

After Phil brought her scotch and took the five dollar bill from her hand, she stood for a moment. She'd intended to go back and sit with McCoy, he wasn't dealing with Lennie's death to well himself. She looked back at the table and noticed that Serena Southerlyn and a few other members of the group from the DA's office had joined him while she was at the bar. Deciding that he would be okay, she walked down the bar to where Logan sat.

As she slipped into the recently vacated stool to his left, she sat her glass on the table.

Logan felt a presence sit in the empty stool to his left. **Great,** he thought, **another person who wants to make small talk.** Not raising his eyes, he looked over at the glass of scotch, being held by a female hand, with neatly French manicured nails. His eyes traveled up the length of the hand, to where it disappeared under a black pinstriped suit jacket. **Lawyer,** his alcohol addled brain decided, then decided to place a face with the jacket.

Raising his head, he looked at the woman, taking in the familiar dark red hair and expressive brown eyes. "Kate." He sounded almost surprised to see her there.

"Hey, Mike," she softly said, placing her hand on his arm. "How are ya?"

"Drunk," he honestly said, amazed that she was speaking to him.

"Yeah, I can tell," she smiled, then, "You're wearing your best **Keep the hell away from me** look, too."

"Yeah, well…" he sniffed, taking a drink. After he swallowed, he looked at her, "Didn't stop you from coming over."

"I like a challenge."

"You…look good," he said, wishing he wasn't so drunk. Last he'd talked to her, six years ago, wasn't pretty. Yet, here she stood, smiling, her hand still on his arm.

"Thanks," she nodded, "You do too…"

"You must be as drunk as I am," he dryly laughed, "If you think I look good."

She stood for a moment, fighting a mental war with herself. She knew she should just walk back over to where the rest of the group from the DA's office sat and leave him there to stew in his own juices. Don Cragen or Anita VanBuren would drive him home. They were good like that. She wasn't responsible for Mike Logan any more, not that she guessed she ever was. Instead of walking away, she said, "Have you eaten?"

He shook his head.

"Let me buy you something to eat, okay?"

"Why are you being nice to me?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

"I know what you're going through," she quietly said, "And I saw you sitting here alone…I don't think you need to be alone tonight."

"And you're my own Personal Jesus tonight?" was his dry reply.

"Screw you," she returned, removing her hand from his arm and picking up her scotch. "Sorry I bothered you; I'll leave you alone to wallow." She started to stand, but he clamped his hand on her arm. She spun, giving him a withering look.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I…"

"It's okay," she dismissed, sitting back down.

"No, it isn't," he insisted, not removing his hand from her arm. "I'm sorry…for everything."

"Okay, you're drunk, and you need food and sleep or you're never going to make the funeral tomorrow," she stood up again. "I'm gonna drive you out to your place…is Prosky's Diner still around?" she mentioned a small diner near his Staten Island apartment.

"I'm staying in the city," he said, "I got a hotel room."

Kate raised a brow, "You got a hotel room?"

"Yeah, figured I wouldn't make it tomorrow if I had to come in from my place," he admitted. "I'm staying at the 3030."

"Then I'll take you there," she stood, "Come on…"

**3030 Hotel, Room 217**

**December 30, 2004**

**11:45 pm**

"Room service said it will take 20 minutes," Kate announced, hanging up the phone. "This place must be empty tonight."

Logan stood in front of the honor bar, studying the small bottles.

"No," Kate said, stepping up behind him and shutting the cabinet. "No more alcohol."

He turned and studied her, "Why do you care?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe cuz I'm upset and have had too much to drink tonight myself and my ability to think rationally has taken the night off?"

"Bull shit."

"Okay," she smartly said, "You wanna know the truth? I saw you sitting all alone at the end of the bar and I could see how much this kicked your ass. I didn't want you to be alone…"

"Why?"

"I don't freakin' know," she replied, exasperated. "I'm a lawyer, not a psychiatrist, Mike."

He laughed, "Trekkie."

She cracked a smile, remembering how he used to tease her about paraphrasing Star Trek episodes. "Yeah, well…"

"I missed you," he simply said, sitting down hard in a wing chair.

"Did you?"

He nodded, "I thought about calling you a couple of times, but…you were hooked up with McCoy…"

"That's long done," she sniffed. "It didn't last long. Once I got my promotion, we became friends again. It's like a bad blink in history."

"I didn't know…I saw you with him tonight…"

"Jack's another Irishman who thinks he can hold his liquor. Somebody had to watch out for his ass and since I don't want to have his case load dumped on my desk, I figured I'd be the one."

Logan took a deep breath and released it slowly, "I need another drink."

"You need food," she insisted.

"He didn't freakin' tell me, Katie," Logan quietly said, "I didn't know he was that sick."

"He tried to keep it from everybody, Mikey," she softly said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, but…shit…I knew he'd cut back his hours, he said he was going to spend more time playing the ponies…" he hung his head. "Shit."

"Mike…" She sat on the arm of the wing chair and slipped her arm around his shoulders. "He didn't want anybody to see him at the end…"

"Yeah, but come on…"

"I know," she agreed. "It would have been nice to have a warning…"

Logan's voice was quiet, "Would've been nice to get to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry, Mike," she quietly said, hugging him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her, resting his head on her chest. It felt good to have her in his arms. He could hear her heart beating; smell the soft familiar scent of her cologne. For a moment, it was as if the past six years had disappeared.

Kate rested her chin on the top of his head and held him tightly. She didn't want to admit that it felt good to have his arms around her again. Closing her eyes, she held him, not allowing her mind to think of anything except the white noise of the room heater.

They sat that way, neither speaking, neither moving, until a sharp knock at the door and the announcement of "Room Service", pulled them from their embrace.

Kate stood and walked to the door, holding it open while the porter carried in a large tray and set it on the small table. They'd charged the food to the room, but she slipped the man a ten dollar bill and thanked him, sending him on his way. After closing the door, she turned to find Logan standing at the table, inspecting the food on the tray.

"Eat that sandwich and then I'm putting you to bed," she commanded, handing him a water bottle, "Drink this, too."

"Yes, Mom," he said, taking a bite of the turkey club.

Kate picked up the other water bottle that sat on the tray, opened it and took a long drink. She knew she'd have a headache in the morning, but she'd still be better off than a lot of the rest of them would.

"Talk to me," Logan said, sitting on the bed.

"Finish your sandwich," she prompted.

"I'm finishing it," he returned, holding up the plate to show half of the sandwich gone. He didn't realize how hungry he'd been.

"Good," she smiled, sitting next to him and sipping from her water bottle. "What do you want me to talk to you about, Mikey?"

He smiled; she'd called him "Mikey". Only two people had ever been able to get away with it. Lennie was one, and Katie was the other. "What's new with you?"

"Not a lot," she shrugged. "I'm busy at work; I'm on the Board of the Manhattan Women of Law…that's about it. What about you?"

"Workin'," he shrugged. 'That's about it."

"How's Georgeanne?" she asked, feeling a gnawing in her stomach.

Logan looked at her quickly, surprised to hear that name. It had been years since he'd seen Georgeanne Taylor. She'd broken up with him only days after Katie had. That had been a banner week. "That's long done," he paraphrased her. "Lasted something like three days after you and I broke up."

She raised a brow, "What happened?"

He took a long drink of water, swallowed, and then spoke. "Didn't work."

As irrational as Kate thought it was that comment felt like a slap in the face. "I see."

Logan, who was still way past the legal limit, but who's buzz had mellowed incredibly since he ate, realized the effect his comment had. "Shit, Katie, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry…"

"No, I am," he insisted, setting the empty plate and the water bottle on the floor near the bed. He took her hands, "I screwed up…I think that was the only thing I did well back then…"

"Mike," she softly protested.

He shook his head, "No, let me finish…I screwed up. I got too close to the case, too close to the victim…"

"Too close to the victim's sister," she said, then instantly regretted it.

"You're right, I did…but I was working on her sister's murder. And I solved it, Katie. Me and Silvera busted our asses…it was almost like being back at the 2-7, a real case. And Georgeanne…she thought I was something special. I put her sister's murderer away. I was there for her through the whole thing…"

"Must've been a real ego boost, huh? To have someone look at you like you're a hero." She allowed. "I know how good it must've felt."

"Yeah, it did. And both of us kinda took the feeling in the wrong direction…"

She nodded.

"I didn't think. It was stupid. I have no excuse except I was totally messed up in the head…."

"Mike," she protested.

"No, Katie, it's true. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You stuck by me through a ton of shit…"

"I loved you," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know that now," he seriously said, "Back then…I didn't think…"

"Times change, people change," she mused. "Maybe you've grown up."

"Some," he allowed, trying a smile.

"That's right, it is you we're discussing," she teased, then watched as his features clouded again. "Talk to me, Mike."

"You're something else, Katie," he said, full of admiration. "If I was you and I'd seen my drunk ass sitting in the bar tonight, I'd have let myself sit."

"Yeah, well, I always did like to take in strays," she blushed.

"Guess you don't still hate me, huh?"

"I never hated you, Mikey. I disliked you intensely for a couple of years…but time passes…"

He studied her face for a moment, then, leaned forward and softly kissed her. It was a soft, tentative kiss that lingered for a few moments before he pulled back.

"Mike…" she began, her brain fighting her body on how to handle this latest development to the already too emotional night.

"I'm sorry…" he stopped, and then firmly said, "No, I'm not sorry."

"I'm not either," she softly said, as her brain, dulled by emotion and slowed by the scotch, slowly gave in to her body. She kissed him, a little more surely, then pulled back. "I should leave."

"Stay with me?" he asked, putting his arms around her.

"We're drunk, we're emotional…"

"We're adults, we've done this before…" he said, "Katie…" he kissed her again.

She wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss with passion. As they kissed, their hands exploring each other, they lay back onto the bed. "Mike…" she said, as he unbuttoned her silk blouse, "Mike…"

"What?" he looked at her, as if just waking.

"Do you have…" she began, but he cut her off with a kiss.

"In my wallet," he simply said, feeling her body relax. "Been single too long to be stupid."

She smiled at him, "Every time?"

He nodded, "Every time."

"Good," she returned, kissing him deeply.

**O'Malley's Tavern**

**December 31, 2004**

**4:45 PM**

For the second day in a row, Mike Logan sat at the bar in O'Malley's Pub, drinking to Lennie Briscoe's memory. But this time, he wasn't alone. He sat with Rey Curtis and Ed Greene. Both had been Lennie's partner after he left and all three of them had been asked to be pall bearers at the funeral. They approached each other with cold indifference at first. After five minutes of wary glances and shuffling feet, Rey Curtis broke the ice with a memory that made them all laugh. Over the course of the day, they shared memories and stories and now, they sat, at the corner of the bar.

Truth be known, Logan was tired and didn't want to sit there any longer. No offense to Lennie, but the past 24 hours had been hard on him. He wanted to lie down, to sleep…to see Kate again. But, aside from many glances and reassuring looks over the course of the day, he hadn't had any contact with Kate after she left his hotel room early that morning. She'd spent the day in a tight circle of people from the DA's office. A couple of times, he noticed her crying and there was McCoy, comforting her. She said they were just friends, and he believed her, but something about the situation still pissed him off.

Not that he had any rights to her. Not any more. He blew that years ago.

"Hey, Logan," Ed Greene's voice began, "Do you see the action Munch is getting?"

"Huh? Where?" Logan looked up.

"Hot redhead, too hot for Munch," Curtis laughed.

"I don't know, Curtis," Greene laughed, "We could be looking at the fourth Mrs. Munch…or is it the fifth?"

"Where?" Logan asked, searching the crowd for a redhead.

"Over at the juke box," Curtis explained, nodding that way. He watched as Logan looked to the juke box. After a moment, his eyes narrowed and his grip tightened on his glass. He looked over at the woman again and recognition set in. "Hey, wait, isn't that Kate O'Hara from the DA's office?"

"Yeah, that's her," Logan said, willing himself to remain calm.

"Logan, you okay?" Greene asked, picking up on Logan's mood shift.

"Fine," he sniffed, then, "She's drunk and Munch is moving in for an easy score."

"She's drunk?" Curtis asked, studying her, watching as she stood, leaning against the juke box, laughing and talking to Munch. It was obvious that she wasn't offended by his advances. She seemed quite amused by the whole thing. "She looks okay to me…"

Logan shook his head, "Look at her face…"

"She's flushed," Greene allowed, then with a sly smile, "Redheads are even sexier when they're flushed."

"Redheads are sexy, period," Curtis agreed, then, "But I don't know if that's because she's drunk or because it's warm in here."

Logan shook his head again, "No, that's what she looks like when she's buzzed."

"How do you know that?" Green asked with a laugh.

Logan debated for a moment, then casually said, "I dated her…years ago…"

"Ah, I get it," Greene nodded, "And you're either jealous or protective."

"Both," Logan firmly said, setting down his glass and standing up. "And I'm going to go interrupt Munch's mating dance…"

"Go for it," Curtis laughed, "Just don't start a brawl, I promised my wife I'd be home before her family got there for New Years Eve."

"I'm not gonna start a fight, Curtis," Logan rolled his eyes. "Besides, I could take Munch in a heart beat."

"It ain't Munch I'm worried about, Logan," Greene said, sitting up in his seat, "It's the fact that Stabler and Tutuolo will jump your ass to save his."

"Relax," Logan held up a hand, "I'm not drunk, I'm not going to be a cave man, I'm just going to go get Kate out of there before she ends up screwing the guy…" Logan looked at both of them. "Watch me work, Gentlemen." With that, he walked off.

"He doesn't have it bad for her, does he?" Greene knowingly said.

"A blind man could see that one," Curtis agreed, watching Logan walk across the bar.

"So, what do you say, Kate?" Munch asked, "We could go get some dinner…see in the New Year together?"

"John," Kate began, but was cut off by Logan's voice.

"Kate, how are ya?"

"Mike," Kate began, with a laugh. "How are ya?"

"Munch," Logan acknowledged, nodding his head.

Munch returned the nod, "Logan."

"So," Kate began, plainly tickled by Mike's presence and the ruffled feathers he thought he was covering up. "What brings you down here?"

"Saw you standing there, thought I'd take you to dinner to make up for last night."

**Here it comes,** she thought. **He's going to mark his territory.**

"Last night?" Munch asked, clearly curious.

"Yeah," Logan casually explained, "Kate poured me back to my hotel and got me room service."

Munch raised a brow. "You're a good woman, Kate."

"I try," she replied, waiting for Logan to go in for the kill. She could tell by the smart ass smile what was coming next.

"She is," Logan agreed, "She wouldn't even let me buy her breakfast this morning before she left…"

"Kate," Munch said, clearly sounding disappointed, "Why didn't you tell me you'd hooked up with the King of Staten Island? Or are you trying to forget it ever happened?"

Without even looking at him, Kate could feel Logan tensing, preparing for a come back. Casually, she reached out and took his fisted hand into hers, squeezing hard. She smiled at Munch. "John, a lady doesn't kiss and tell… unless she's got a six figure book deal."

"So, you're going back for round two, huh?" Munch sniffed, deciding he didn't want to push it. "Have fun…I'll see you in court." With that, he walked away.

"Okay, Caveman," Kate laughed, turning to Logan, "Turn down the testosterone."

"I'm sorry," Logan quietly said, clearly still aggravated. "You've had too much to drink and Munch was coming in for the kill."

"I have had a lot to drink, Mikey, not too much. Besides it's me you're talking about," she reminded, not sure if she was tickled or pissed by his protective actions. "I'm not some cheep whore who's going to lay down with someone just because they spent more than they should buying me 18 year old scotch all night. Shit, if I was going to do that, I'd be screwing McCoy right now," she countered, staring him down. "You're just being all macho and protective."

"Don't do that to me, Katie," he said, feeling himself stirring into life.

"Do what?"

"Stare me down like that," he said, "You know what that does to me."

"Yeah, I do," she laughed. "Which is why I did it."

"You are such a lawyer," he said, allowing her a smile.

"And you're a caveman cop," she countered, her smile mirroring his.

"Let me take you to dinner," he offered. "I owe you one for last night."

"Mikey, it's New Years Eve, where're we gonna get a table?"

"Shit, I didn't think of that," he spat, cursing his luck.

"I'm gonna regret this," she began, "But there's this amazing pizza place around the corner from my apartment…I know we'll be able to get a table there tonight."

"Pizza? I wanted to take you somewhere nice," he sounded disappointed and it touched her.

"Pizza's good, this place actually is kinda nice, and it's all we're gonna get tonight. Take it or leave it…"

"Let's go…"

**Apartment of Executive ADA Katrina O'Hara**

**January 1, 2005**

**12:15 am**

The sound of sirens out on the street woke Mike Logan from his sleep. A life long New Yorker, it wasn't so much the sound, hell, sirens were a nightly occurrence. What woke Logan was the fact that the sounds came from a window to his right side, as opposed to one to his left like in his apartment.

It took a moment for his sleep addled mind to recall the past night's events and remind him of his current location. Kate's apartment. With a smile, he opened his eyes. The dim light from the bathroom cast enough of a glow that he could take in his surroundings. After scanning the room, he directed his gaze to Kate, who slept next to him.

Her arm was draped across his chest, her head rested on a pile of pillows. Her dark red hair fell forward, covering her face. Without thinking, he gently pulled the hair back from her face.

Startled by the action, her eyes flew open. It took a moment for her to wake enough to recognize him and break into a smile. "Hey."

"Hey," he returned, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you…"

"It's okay," she dismissed. "You been awake long?"

He shook his head, "Sirens woke me a minute ago." He leaned over and softly kissed her.

"What time is it?" she yawned.

He looked over her shoulder to the alarm clock, "12:15."

"We missed the new year," she said, with a faint trace of disappointment in her voice.

"You always did like to watch the ball drop in Times Square, "he remembered.

"I guess it gave the old year closure, you know?" she shrugged,

"I think we already did the closure thing this year…"

"Yeah, we did." She studied his face in the dim light. "What are we doing?"

"Laying in bed and talking," he tried, although he knew that wasn't what she meant.

"Mike…"

"I don't know, Katie," he quietly returned, lying back onto the pillows. He stared at the ceiling. "I have no idea…"

"You seeing anybody?"

"Not steady. You?"

"Not at all," she quietly said. "At least we didn't cheat on anybody…"

He looked at her, "That's all you can come up with?"

"I don't know what to say, Mikey," she sighed, hating how dramatic it sounded. "We're both upset; it's a horrible time of year…"

"And I want to see you again," he quickly said, watching her expression move from confusion to disbelief. "Yeah, we hooked up and yeah, drunk or not, you gotta admit the sex was good."

"It was always good, Mikey, that wasn't the problem."

"I know, but shit, Katie, you said it yourself. People change. I've been living my life out in the seventh circle of Hell and it's changed me. I'm not who I was when I moved out there." Her expression hadn't changed, so he continued. "I'm still the same kind of cop…but I'm not the same outside of work."

"Neither am I," she simply said, then, "You may not want to keep seeing me…"

"You haven't changed that much. Sure, you're an Executive ADA now…longer hours, more stress…"

"What does Jack call me? Queen of All Bitches?" she dryly laughed.

"You gotta be, to deal with what you deal with every day," he allowed. "I'm living proof of that."

"I'll bet you're still the best at playing Bad Cop in all of NYPD."

He shrugged. "When you have a reputation, you need to live up to it."

"Seeing each other wouldn't be easy, Mike. Our lives have changed a lot…you're still out on Staten Island, I'm living in the East Village…"

"You make it sound like we're on opposite ends of the world. If you don't want to see me, Katie, just tell me."

"It isn't that," she sighed.

"Then what is it. Either you want to or you don't," he grew defensive.

"It's not that simple…"

"Explain it to me."

"Most of me really wants to see you again. But there is a part of me that remembers why we aren't still together."

"Katie, I'm not that guy anymore. I'm not going to dick you over again."

"Most of me realizes that," she continued, then, deciding honesty was the best way to go, continued. "After you and I broke up, I spent about two years on my own. I didn't date anybody. I joined the Women in Law Group, spent a lot of time driving back and forth to Philly helping my dad open his second restaurant. Jack and I started dating about the time that happened. We decided we were going to be friends with benefits. No ties, no commitment. We'd both been burned too many times. It worked for a couple of years. About two months after I got elected to the Board of the group, I found out that he'd been seeing a neurosurgeon. They were having dinner in the same restaurant as the Board Meeting. I found them having a lovely romantic dinner, complete with hand holding and romantic gazes."

"What did you do?" he asked, knowing Kate, it had to be good.

"Most of the women in the Board were gone by the time I noticed them. I was waiting in the bar for a cab. When she got up to go to the bathroom, I walked over and sat down in her seat."

"Did he shit?"

"He nearly choked on his whiskey," she recalled, with an evil smile. "Then, I quietly told him, in language that would make a sailor blush, exactly what I though of him and that not only were we no longer friends, but the benefits were over, too. Then, I got up and left him sitting there."

"Shit," Logan laughed. "You're good."

"I was pissed. I mean, it didn't bother me that he was seeing someone else, we didn't have a commitment. What bothered me was that they obviously were having a real relationship…which made me the other woman. You know me, that's one thing I will never be…and the thing that pissed me off the most was that he knew that too."

"And since then? You been dating?"

She shrugged, "Here and there, but lately, no. My confidence in my ability to choose partners was seriously shaken."

"I get it…which is why you're not too thrilled with the idea of seeing me again. I screwed you over…you think I'll do it again."

"Like I said, Mikey, most of me can see that you've changed. I just have to convince the rest."

"Let me convince the rest," he seriously said, running his hand along the soft curve of her waist.

"You've convinced the body," she said, trying to the way her body was responding to her touch, "But only about 75 percent of the mind."

"Give me a chance with that other 25 percent," he smiled at her.

"You're serious," she said, sounding amazed.

"I am. Katie I've been single my whole life…I ain't getting any younger and it's getting old."

Kate's eyes narrowed, "So this is all about the fact you're looking to settle down?"

"No, I'm not desperate to settle down…that's not what I'm sayin'."

"What are you saying?" she sniffed.

"I'm saying that when I think about it, you were probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I screwed it up…and whether or not you believe it, I'm still kicking my own ass over it." He took her hands in his. "You stuck by me…no matter how messed up I was, no matter what I was dealing with…no matter how much of an asshole I was. You were there. And you loved me. Even when we were fighting, even when you were pissed at me, you loved me. I understand it now. I don't think anybody has ever felt that way about me…"

"Mikey…"

"I mean it, Katie. You know what my childhood was like."

"I know," she quietly said. "You know…this is going to sound insane, but the part of me that doesn't trust this is the same part of me that never stopped loving you."

"That actually made sense," he smiled, then grew serious again. "What do you say? Can we try this again?"

She smiled at him, he was being honest and the expression on his face tore at her heart. She could tell that he'd changed and hoped that that it had been for the best. "You're gonna have to work at it…"

"You can call the shots…" he said, watching as she raised a brow, "Okay, most of the shots…"

"Oh no you're not giving me the reigns…the best relationships are partnerships and if you want to pursue this, that's what we'll be…"

"The Lawyer is showing again," he teased.

"Yeah, well, be lucky I'm not making you sign a contract."

"You want me to sign something, I will," he said, eyes twinkling.

"What are you going to do, write "I won't screw Kate over" 1000 times?" she laughed.

"Nope…" he reached across her and turned on the light. Pulling open the nightstand drawer, he pulled out the legal pad and pen that she always kept in her night stand drawer.

"What are you doing?" she laughed, watching as he took the cap off of the pen and started to write.

He wrote something on the pad, signed it with a flourish, and handed it back to her. "There…now you have a legally binding, signed agreement."

She studied the pad. In his familiar scrawling hand writing was written, "I, Michael Francis Logan, hereby swear that I will not screw over Katrina Malatesta O'Hara." He had signed and dated it as well. "Mikey…"

"You want it on a bill board in Times Square?"

"You can do that?" she laughed.

"If that's what it takes…"

She looked down at the pad again, then back up at him. "You win…"

"What?"

"You heard me, you win. We'll try this again. But I warn you Detective Logan, you've got your work cut out for you."

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply. "You won't be disappointed."

"See to it that I'm not," she laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

The New York Palace Hotel

February 11, 2005

10:15 pm

Mike Logan stood in line near the small bar, surveying the large crowd. As uncomfortable as he was in the rented tux he wore, he was actually kind of glad he was there. The Sweethearts Dance for Breast Cancer Awareness was one of the big fund raising events of the year. Sponsored by the Manhattan Women of Law, it drew people from every facet of the city, dressed in their finest, raising money for a deserving charity during the overly hyped Valentine's Day Weekend.

Logan wasn't there to hobnob with the upper class. He was there for Kate O'Hara. As a member of the Board of Directors, Kate was very involved in the planning and organization of the event. She'd been stressed out over this for the past month, sweating out details from table placement, to lighting, to press coverage, to the weather report for the weekend, which to her dismay, included snow. He'd done his best to appear concerned, offered useless suggestions, and forced her to step away before she totally lost it, more than a few times.

She'd asked him to go as her escort, warning him that wearing a tux would be part of the deal. She also warned him that she wouldn't be able to spend much time with him until later in the evening. He supposed he was okay with that, after all, he was good at lurking around the edges, watching the crowd.

Never one to pay much attention to fashion, Logan quickly decided that black, white, and red were the colors to wear to this thing. He chalked the red up to the whole Valentine's thing. Drinking the last of his Jamison's, he wondered when he started to care about stuff like that.

It was easy for him to spot Kate. Her red hair always caught his attention and tonight was no different. She was standing near the dance floor, speaking to a small group of people and she looked amazing. She'd given in to the pressure of the rest of the board and wore a red gown, but where most of there's were bright red; Kate's was more of a deep ruby red. It was silky and made a rustling noise when she walked.

He watched her as she played the gracious hostess, speaking to many of the guests, encouraging them to bid on the silent auction, sipping occasionally from a flute of champagne, but, he noticed, not eating any of the crab puffs and stuffed mushrooms she and the rest of the board had agonized over.

She'd be hungry once this was over, he decided, then wondered whether one could order pizza delivery to a room at the New York Palace. He laughed at the thought, then ordered another drink from the bartender.

"Mike Logan," began a male voice, from behind him. Logan turned to find Jack McCoy standing there, looking surprised.

"Jack McCoy," Logan nodded, "How are ya?"

"Good," he returned, "I never figured you for a charity Ball fan."

"I could say the same for you," Logan dryly laughed, picking up his drink and tipping the bartender.

McCoy ordered a Jamison's on the rocks, then turned back to Logan, "It's a good cause, but I could do without the bowtie."

"I know the feeling," Logan admitted, checking his watch, "I've got another 45 minutes and it's gone."

"I wish," McCoy returned with a roll of his eyes, "I have to attend an after party."

"Ouch," Logan laughed, "The after party I have planned is a bit more private."

McCoy raised a brow, "Someone's got a romantic evening planned."

Logan nodded, watching as McCoy picked up his drink and tipped the bartender.

"So, how'd you get drafted into this shindig?" McCoy asked

"She asked, I came," Logan admitted, knowing that McCoy was not aware that the "she" he spoke of was Kate O'Hara. "You?"

"The same," he agreed, then shrugged. "Ah, it's a good cause." He waved to someone in the crowd, "I'm being summoned…"

"Don't keep her waiting," Logan said, holding up his drink in a mock toast. "Have fun."

"Yeah, you too," McCoy laughed, walking off.

"You were not just chatting with Jack McCoy," Kate began, walking up and taking his arm.

"Afraid I was giving away your secrets?" he teased.

"You really would have enjoyed telling him about us, wouldn't you?" she laughed.

"Just a little," he dismissed, kissing the side of her neck, "Wouldn't want to mess up your make up," he said, as he pulled back.

"Oh, yes you do," she slyly said, "Give me an hour…then you can take me home and mess it up good and proper…"

"Go on, do what you need to do," he said, "I'll be here."

She pecked his cheek, then wiped off the lipstick she'd left behind, "You're being entirely too nice to me tonight…I'm going to pay for this when I get home, aren't I?"

He gave her an evil grin.

"And on that note, I'll be back in a little bit…" she winked at him, then bustled off into the crowd.

11:30 pm

While Kate wrapped up the banquet with the rest of the Board, Logan checked in with the desk and made sure their room was ready. He returned to the nearly empty ballroom to find her sitting alone at a table, her shoes off, feet up on a chair, sipping from a flute of champagne.

Stepping up behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged them gently. She dropped her head, to give him better access. "Are you done for the night?" he asked, bending to kiss the back of her neck.

"Mm hmm…" she returned, "Take me home, Detective Logan."

"I've made other arrangements," he said, holding out his hand.

"Tell me we don't have to go to an after party," she winced, taking his hand and standing up.

"We do," he continued, watching as she picked up her shoes and purse.

"Mikey," she sighed, "I'm not in the mood to schmooze anymore…"

"You don't have to schmooze anyone," he said, leading her into the lobby. "This is a more intimate affair."

She raised a brow, "Oh, really? Where are we going?"

"Room 4907," he held up a key card.

Feburary12, 2005

2:15 am.

"Have I told you what a great idea this was?" Kate asked, stretching out on the queen sized bed.

"Only about 15 times," he laughed, leaning over and kissing her.

"Well it was," she returned, kissing him. "And the pizza was my favorite part."

"The pizza?" he feigned hurt, "The pizza…"

"Okay, the sex was good, too," she allowed, "But the pizza just did me in."

"Well, it ain't over yet…"

"What else do you have up your sleeve?"

"Tomorrow morning, at 10, before we check out, we'll be getting a couples massage in our room," he advised.

"We?" she looked over at him, "We? You're getting a massage too?"

"That's the whole point of a couples massage, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but…" she laughed, "You're not a massage kinda guy…"

"I don't know, I mean, I'll be naked, with some incredibly hot chick massaging me…"

"And that's all that's going to happen," she dryly said. "You won't be getting the special happy ending massage in this place."

"Besides," he ignored her comment, "Silvera said it's supposed to be very romantic…"

"Romantic? Since when you care about romantic?" she teased.

"Watch it," he laughed, running his finger along the ticklish spot on her side, causing her to flinch. "I'm tryin' to do the whole Valentine's thing here…"

"And I appreciate it," she said.

"But?" he prompted, knowing there was more.

"All the hearts and flowers and shit, isn't exactly us."

"You don't like it?"

"I'm not saying that," she shook her head.

"Then what are you saying?" he asked, confused by her reaction.

"That you've been really amazing since we started seeing each other again," she carefully said, "You've been taking me out, doing the whole courting thing…"

"But?"

"You don't need to do this," she said, "I may be a fool for saying this, but, as much as I've enjoyed it, you really don't need to keep doing it." She took his hand, "One of the things I missed most about our relationship was the time we spent just hanging out at my place. We'd go get coffee in the morning, knock around the city, go home, make a big dinner…watch movies in bed. We haven't done that yet…"

He laughed, "How'd I end up with the one woman in Manhattan who'd rather stay home in her sweats and make spaghetti than dress up and hit the town?"

"I don't know, but you've ended up with her twice," she winked, "So consider yourself lucky."

"I do," he seriously replied.

"You can say that after I made you put on a monkey suit and stand around in a banquet hall all night?"

"Yeah, cuz I got to stand there and watch you do your thing," he explained. "Do you have any idea how sexy you were tonight?"

"Me?" she laughed. "I was a lunatic all night."

"You looked incredible," he replied, kissing her. "Besides, I got to sit back and be proud of you. You did a great job."

She blushed, "Will you please stop?"

"I will not," he returned, with another kiss.

"You were bored pissless…"

"I was getting off on watching you…" he went on, working his way along her neck.

She laughed. "Spare me."

"I was…" he found the spot on her neck that gave her shivers and kissed it softly. "I was watching you walking around in that dress…and all I could think about was getting you back here and getting you out of it…"

"See, my point exactly, you were so bored…"

"Stiff as a board," he grinned.

"Mikey…" she shook her head, "Are we going to have sex again?"

"Gotta get our money's worth out of the hotel room…"

February 13, 2005

12:15 PM

Kate and Logan walked into the elevator. After pressing the button for the lobby, he turned to find Kate leaning against the back wall, eyes closed. She was wearing her gown from last night, but this morning, she wore no make up and her dark red hair was down. She looked amazing last night, with her hair up and her make up done, but he kinda liked this look better.

Without opening her eyes, she spoke, "You're staring…I can feel it."

"Sorry," he said, kissing her cheek. "So, the massage was a good idea?"

"Amazingly good," she smiled, opening her eyes. She took his hand, "You hit a home run with this one."

"Yeah, I know," he smartly returned, as the elevator reached the lobby and the door opened. "Let me check out."

"Take your time," She returned, sitting on one of the velvet chairs and watching as he walked to the desk.

"Kate?" Jack McCoy's voice began, causing her to turn her head. Jack walked over, dressed in jeans and a pull over sweater.

"Hey Jack," she smiled, standing, "How was the after party?"

He rolled his eyes, "Pompous…boring…" He shrugged, "How are they always?" He took a moment to survey her clothing and with an amused smile, he asked, "Didn't quite make it home last night, Ms. O'Hara?"

"My escort had other plans," she said, and felt herself blushing.

"You never did introduce me to the mystery man," he teased, as she wouldn't tell him who her escort was going to be. "So? Where is he?"

"Checking out," she returned, watching as his gaze went to the main desk.

McCoy studied the back of the man at the desk, there was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn't quite place him. The mystery was solved when the man turned around. "Logan?" he asked, turning to look at Kate. "You're seeing Mike Logan?"

Kate nodded, "Yeah."

"How the hell did that happen?"

"The night of Lennie Briscoe's wake," she explained, "I poured him back to this hotel room…"

Logan walked over and slipped his arm around Kate's shoulder, "McCoy," he began, "How are ya?"

"Good," McCoy returned, a surprised smile on his face, "I'd ask how you were, but I can see for myself…"

"Yeah, well," Logan smugly smiled.

"You're a lucky man," McCoy said, smile still in place, but a serious tone creeping in to his words, "Just make sure you take good care of her this time around."

"I intend to," Logan nodded, threat duly noted. He turned to Kate, "You ready to go/"

Kate nodded, then, "Thanks for coming last night, Jack. I really appreciated having you there for moral support."

"It was my pleasure, Kate," he said, as she hugged him. "You can tell the other ladies of the board that you did a wonderful job."

She smiled, "Thank you."

"Go on, get home. Get some rest. I'll see you Monday."

**Office of Executive ADA Kate O'Hara**

**February 14, 2005**

**5:15 pm**

Tiredly, Kate tossed her briefcase on the credenza and sat at her desk. She was more than ready to head home after her long day in court, but had a few odds and ends to complete before heading home. Logan was supposed to be at her place by 7 and she was going to make dinner for him. Of course, she still had no idea what she would make, but he wasn't picky, so she was sure she could whip something up to please him.

As she logged into her computer, there was a knock on the frame of her office door. She looked up to find Jack McCoy standing there.

"You got a minute?" he asked, walking in.

"Yeah, come on in," she nodded. "What's up?"

Jack sat in one of the arm chairs in front of her desk, "Have you heard anything from Shambala Greene?"

She shook her head, "Not a word. I don't think she's going to take our offer…but, I haven't checked my email yet." She typed her password into the email log in and hit the enter key. "Of course, Shambala's not really the email kind…"

"She's less internet savvy than I am…" McCoy laughed, then with a smile, "Nice flowers."

Kate looked over at the lavender roses and smiled. "Yeah, red roses aren't my thing, you know?"

"That's our Kate, always the rebel," he laughed.

"Thanks, Jack," she rolled her eyes, and then looked at her email. "Nope, nothing from Shambala."

"Shit," he tiredly said, "I give up. If she wants us to try the kid, we'll try him. She'll lose."

"She thinks she's got a chance," Kate offered. "And that thought scares me. Wonder what she's got up her sleeve."

"She doesn't know what we've got, either," Jack dismissed. "Besides, you're good at surprises…"

Kate raised a brow, "Oh, I am, am I?"

"Yeah, you are," he returned, "Take Sunday morning for example…"

"I knew you'd get to that sooner or later. Go on…tell me you think I'm making a mistake."

"I wasn't going to say that," was his honest reply. "I was just going to tell you that I was surprised."

"I was too," she admitted, "Never in a million years did I think I'd get back together with him."

"But you have."

"I have," she nodded. Noticing his expectant expression, she continued, "And he's really been very attentive and very sincere."

"This is Mike Logan we're talking about, Kate," he cautioned.

"I know, Jack. Trust me, my eyes are open." She assured, then, "I'm sure it's frustrating the hell out of him, too."

"Ah, he's in for the whole deal, huh?"

She nodded.

"And you?"

She massaged her temples, then looked up at him. "I want to trust him, Jack," she honestly said.

"But?"

"But, I don't exactly trust anybody anymore, ya know?"

McCoy nodded his understanding, knowing he played a part in her distrust.

Kate shrugged, "I don't know, Jack. Things are different this time…we've both changed a hell of a lot…I'm going to give it a shot. Who knows?"

"I have no right to say a word, but," McCoy smiled at her, "You have to do what you feel is right."

"I know," she smiled back at him, "Thanks, Jack."

"No problem," he stood up, "Just make sure he knows that if he screws you over again, I'll kick his ass."

"Don't worry, Jack," she laughed, "He already knows that I'd kick it, so you'd just be adding insult to injury."

"I'm okay with that," he laughed, walking to the door. "Let me know if you hear from Shambala, okay?"

"I will. Go on, get out of here….don't you have to go get Claudia's Valentine's present?"

"Kate! What you must think of me," He shook his head, then, with a wry smile, "I went out at lunch."

"Go back to your office, McCoy!" she laughed.

"Going," he laughed with her, then walked off.

Kate shook her head, looking again at the roses sitting on the corner of her desk. She was surprised when they'd arrived this morning, not so much by the fact that he'd sent flowers, but by the fact that he actually remembered that she liked lavender roses. With a sigh, she signed out of her email. "Who knows?" she said aloud, "It might just work this time."


	3. Chapter 3

**Apartment of Executive ADA Kate O'Hara**

**February 21, 2005**

**7:45 pm**

As Mike Logan walked out of the bathroom, his senses were hit with two distinct items. The first was the incredible scent of some sort of Italian food that caused his hungry stomach to rumble in appreciation. The second was the sound of music, loud music. Following the sound of the music through Kate O'Hara's apartment brought him to the kitchen and the source of both the smell and the sound.

He stood in the doorway, watching as Kate prepared dinner, while singing along with the Aerosmith song coming out of her cd player. As she tore lettuce over a large bowl, she was doing this incredibly sexy pelvic roll move in time to the music. This was the true Kate, the Kate that a scant few people at One Hogan Place even knew existed, the Kate that he fell in love with years ago, but hadn't really seen since they started seeing each other again. He was glad to see she still existed. As the song faded out to silence, he cleared his throat.

Kate spun to face him, hands full of lettuce, looking like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked, blushing bright red.

"Since about the second verse," he said, stepping to her. "It's been a long time since I've seen you let go like that."

"Yeah, well," she blushed, allowing him to slip his arms around her. "I do still do it from time to time1" He cut her off with a kiss,

"I'm glad I caught the show." he said, kissing her again.

"Mike!" She laughed. "I'm holding lettuce."

He pulled back and looked at her, "Never thought about using lettuce."

Still laughing, she squirmed out of his arms and deposited the lettuce in the bowl, then wiped her hands on a tea towel. She then turned back to him. "You need to put the hormones on hold, Romeo. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes will work," he returned, pulling her back into his arms.

"Not for me it won't," she said, with a smart ass grin.

"Is that a challenge?"

With a laugh, Kate gave in, "If my dinner burns…"

"I promise…it won't."

**8:45 pm**

"Told you dinner wouldn't burn," Logan said, picking up the last piece of garlic bread from the serving platter and biting into it.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she laughed, from across the table. "You're lucky it didn't. Nona Cataldi would come back from the grave to kick my ass if I burned her lasagna recipe."

"Why don't I doubt that?" he laughed. "I met the Cataldi side of the family. They're tough."

"And they haven't changed. Speaking of which," she said, taking a sip of her wine, "I need to go home next weekend. Dad's got stuff going on at the restaurant and I promised I'd go down."

"When are you heading down?"

"Friday after work, you want to come with?"

Logan stared at her for a moment, wondering why the thought of facing Pat O'Hara scared the crap out of him.

"I promise, Mikey, Dad's cool. He doesn't want to kill you anymore."

He raised a brow. "Anymore?"

"You messed with his only daughter, it's a gut response. But he's okay now…"

"I'm not working this weekend…I guess I could go," he responded, knowing that she wouldn't have asked if she didn't really want him to accompany her.

"Don't sound so thrilled," she said. The ringing of a cell phone caused them both to look towards the breakfast bar, where they'd left their phones. "That's yours," she said, reaching over and picking up his phone.

"If it ain't Silvera I'm not answering," he dismissed.

Kate looked at the read out on the phone, "its Gina." She looked up at him, "Who's Gina?"

"Old girlfriend," he replied. "Wonder why the hell she'd be calling?"

"Why don't you answer it and find out?" she challenged, tossing him the phone.

Logan caught the phone and looked at it. He hadn't talked to Gina since New Years. She was a nurse at the prison and they'd been seeing each other on and off for about a year. There was nothing serious to it, just a hook up now and then and when he and Kate started up again, he'd told Gina he was done. She took it well and they went their own ways. Until now. Curious, he answered the phone.

Kate stood and cleared the dirty dishes from the table. As much as she wanted to sit there and listen to his side of the conversation, she wouldn't allow herself to do it. After all, she reasoned, if she were truly going to trust him again, this would be the place to start. As she put away the leftover lasagna, Logan walked into the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" she asked, without looking at him.

"Not really," he began, "Gina's a nurse at the prison. Seems something's going on out there and two detectives from Major Case were raking her over the coals about it. She's all upset."

"What detectives?" Kate asked, finally looking at him. She could tell his ire was raised, she could see it in his eyes. She forced down the irrational jealousy she felt and waited for his answer.

"Goren and Eames. You know them?"

She nodded, "Goren's very…thoughtful, methodical…he's not a hothead like you."

"Thanks," was his dry reply. "He likes to strong arm witnesses?"

She shrugged. "Like I said, he's not really a hot head like you are. He tends to play with their minds. He's an interesting guy."

"All the same, she's really freaked out. Gina's a good girl. If there's something going down, I know she isn't involved."

Willing her voice to remain neutral, she said, "So, let me guess. You're gonna go pay Goren and Eames a visit to find out what's going on?"

No matter how hard she was trying not to show it, Logan could tell she was not pleased with the situation. "Katie," he began, "She's a friend. We had a real loose kinda thing going on and when you and I started, I told her I was done. But, I told her that if she ever had any problems to call."

"And she did," she concluded.

"Don't be pissed."

"I'm not, Mike, really. If she's a friend, then you need to help her out."

She never was good at hiding her emotions from him and this time was no exception. "You're pissed."

"No, but I will be if you keep pushing it," she returned, walking out of the kitchen.

He followed her a moment later to find her blowing out the candles on the dining room table. She turned around and looked at him. "Do you need to go?"

He shook his head. "I told her I'd talk to them tomorrow and give her a call." As she walked past him, he reached out and caught her arm, pulling her to him. "Katie, I told you. I love you. I'm only helping a friend. You've gotta believe me. I'm not the least bit interested in her any more."

Kate studied his face. She could tell by the way he looked her in the eye that he was telling the truth and willed herself to relax and trust him. "Okay, Mikey. I believe you."

"You're trying to believe me," he corrected, his tone gentle. "I'm not going to do anything to screw this up, Kate. I promise you." He smiled at her. "Trust me?"

Despite the warning buzzers in the back of her mind, she returned the smile, "I will trust you, .this time."

"Thank you," he said, kissing her softly.

"Just don't screw it up."

One Police Plaza

February 24, 2005

11:55 pm

Bobby Goren watched as Mike Logan walked out of the interrogation room. He stood and approached the dark haired detective.

"Logan," he began, causing him to stop in his tracks. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"No need," Logan dismissed, shaking the man's hand. "Who knows, we may be working together again some day."

"I hope so," Goren seriously said, then, "I think Gina Lowe is hanging around in the lobby. You gonna see her home?"

"I've got a black and white waiting to take her," he returned. "I need to go see my girlfriend."

"I thought Gina was…"

"Was," he corrected. "My girlfriend is…connected to NYPD. She probably already knows exactly what happened tonight."

Goren nodded, "And you've got some explaining to do. I get it. I can get Ms. Lowe home, if you need."

"No, its okay, thanks Goren."

"See you around, Logan," Goren said, walking off.

"Count on it," Logan returned, walking out of the squad room. As he entered the hall, Gina approached.

"Mike," she nervously began.

"You okay?" he asked. She looked shaken up.

"I will be," she nodded, taking his hands. "Thank you, for sticking by me, for standing up for me."

"It's okay," he dismissed, "I told you to call if you needed anything."

"You know," she said, giving him a coy smile. "I'd love to see you again, Mike."

"Gina, I'm seeing somebody."

"I know, you told me. Your old girlfriend," she shrugged, "But, Mike, I think we could have something special."

"I'm sorry," he replied, slowly pulling his hands away. "It's nothing personal, but I don't want to screw up what I've got."

"She must be something special."

Logan allowed a smile. "Yeah, she is. Look, I've got a squad car waiting to take you home. They'll make sure you get in safe and sound."

"Thank you, Mike," she said, leaning up and pecking his cheek. "If it doesn't work out with your girlfriend, you know where to find me."

"Yeah, I do," he said, "Now, you go home. Get some rest." He nodded at the uniformed officer who was standing by the door. "Officer Nulty here will get you back out to Staten Island, okay?"

"Okay, goodbye, Mike."

"Bye, Gina."

He watched as Officer Nulty escorted Gina down the hall. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find Kate walking towards him with a strange expression on her face. Her wild eyes told him she was totally freaked out, yet she wore this strange half smile. He wondered if she'd observed his conversation with Gina. As he opened his mouth to ask her, she spoke.

"Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?"

Logan was exhausted and her accusatory tone did nothing for his mood. "Excuse me?"

"You could've been killed tonight…"

"We were okay," he dismissed, cutting her off.

"Bull shit!" she hissed. "I know what went on, and not just the filtered crap that was on the 10 o'clock news, either."

"Who tipped you off?"

"I have my sources," she shot, "Don't change the subject."

"I know I went into this whole thing just to help Gina, but it turned into something big. I couldn't walk away."

"I know you couldn't. But damn it, Mikey, stirring shit in a prison where the guards are as just crooked and more dangerous than the prisoners?" She shook her head. "And not even in your own jurisdiction."

"What do you want me to say, Kate? I got involved and it took off. And guess what, it felt good to be working on a real case again. And yeah, for a minute there, I wondered what the hell I was doing, too, but it worked out."

"Just like that."

"Not just like that…" he paused, willing himself not to fight with her. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be out on Staten Island? Yeah, I'm in homicide, but come on…" He shook his head. "I've been out there for 10 years, Katie and no matter who tried to pull what strings, there was no coming back. But now, after this…"

"You think this will change their minds?" she asked, wondering if anyone had actually said anything to him about transferring.

"Deakins seems to think it could. Between all the pushing Van Buren and Cragen have done and what Deakins said he'd do, this could be it. I don't wanna get my hopes up, but shit, it's probably going to be as close as I've come."

"I know how much it would mean to you, Mikey," she sincerely said.

He looked around the hall, "Let's talk about this somewhere more private, okay?"

"My place works," she said, taking his hand. "Let's go."

Apartment of Executive ADA Kate O'Hara

February 25, 2005

1:45 am

"You still pissed at me?" Logan asked.

From her position above him, her legs still straddling him, Kate laughed, "Could you wait until I catch my breath to start this up again?"

"Sorry," he returned, "I figure I'd catch you while you were still basking in the after glow. You're usually mellower."

"You do know that you're the most frustrating man I've ever known, don't you?" she asked, looking down at him.

"And that's why you love me." He flashed her a smile.

"I do, you know," was her quiet reply. "Love you, I mean."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah. I know, I haven't said it yet," she admitted.

"I figured you'd get to it when you were ready."

"Yeah, well, I gotta admit, you wouldn't have heard it out of my mouth earlier this week."

"I know," he agreed. "I know you really had to work at trusting me, especially when I went to Gina's apartment."

"Yeah, but you know what? This time around, you haven't given me reason not to trust you," she sighed, slipping her leg over him and laying on the bed. "I literally sat here picturing you hooking up with her and then got pissed at myself for not trusting you. But tonight, none of the shit from before mattered any more." She rolled over to face him. "I mean, I'm sitting in my apartment, minding my own business and get this call to tell me you're at the prison and there's a situation."

"I still wanna know who called you."

"I'm not revealing my sources. You never know when I might need them again, especially if you find your way back into Manhattan."

"Could you handle working with me again?"

"I don't know," she smiled, "I'm sure you'll still frustrate the shit out of me."

Logan smiled, tracing his hand along her hip, "And I'm sure we'll still fight. We were really good at that."

"We were really good at making up too."

He kissed her, then pulled back and studied her face. There was something else bothering her. "What?"

"Did you know I was standing in the hallway when you were saying goodbye to Gina?" she asked.

"No, I didn't know you were there until I heard your footsteps. How much of the conversation did you hear?"

"Most of it," she admitted.

"You heard what I told her."

"I did," she agreed, then, kissed him. "And I was hoping you'd tell me you weren't aware of my presence."

"Hell no!" He laughed. "If I'd have known you were there, I'd have laid a killer lip lock on her."

"Wise ass!" She shook her head. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah, I am, aren't I?"


	4. Chapter 4

County Morgue

Staten Island PD

May 12, 2005

9 pm

Logan studied the victim carefully. After all of his years on the force, he knew how to disconnect himself from the crime and look at it with a clear, analytical eye. Tonight, he was having trouble being clear or analytical and it was pissing him off.

They found the victim laying face down behind a Chinese restaurant, her purse lying next to her. Before he even saw her face, he discovered that her name was Claudia Burke. According to her drivers' license, she was 43. Tall, and curvy, she was found wearing a blue rain coat over a black and white pinstriped pantsuit. They couldn't immediately see it, but the front of her suit was stained deep red, from where she bled out from a stab wound to her chest.

What caught his attention was her hair. It was a deep, dark red. It was, he realized, very nearly the color of Kate's hair. Despite the irrationality of his thoughts, Logan needed to see this woman's face. Once the ambulance crew turned her over, he studied her face. Despite the familiarity he felt looking at her in her previous position, his rational mind kicked back in, her nose was too angular, too sharp, her chin as well. Mentally chastising himself, he released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"You okay?" Silvera asked, watching as the color returned to his face.

"Yeah, why?" he asked trying to play it off.

"You looked like you saw a ghost," she shrugged. "Vic does kinda look familiar, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, sorta," he simply said, then, shaking off the thought, "Let's see if anybody around here saw anything…"

"COD was the stab wound," Staten Island Coroner Jack Ryan explained, pointing to the deep, raw cut beneath the victim's left breast. "Knife had a serrated edge and at least a 10 inch blade."

"So, they used a bread knife?" Silvera winced, looking at the victim's face. She did resemble someone, and Silvera just couldn't place who.

"That's my guess," Ryan nodded. She watched as Logan studied the victim's face.

"Any defensive wounds?" he asked, not looking up.

"No. She was probably handing over whatever it is the perp wanted at the time of the stabbing. Perp was talented, managed to go right between the ribs and into the heart. She bled out quickly." Ryan held up the victim's hands, "No marks on her palms. Her manicure still looks fresh."

"Logan," Silvera said, pulling him from his thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah, she just looks like someone I know," he dismissed. "I think it's the hair."

"They must have the same hairdresser," Ryan said, matter-of-factly, "Pubic hair is dark brown."

Logan nodded, growing angrier with himself. _**Get a grip**_, he mentally scolded, _**she's not even a real redhead**_

"Tox screen won't be back til morning," Ryan continued, lifting the sheet and pulling it up and over the victim's face, leaving only her hair exposed. "You guys need anything else from me?"

"I think we're good," Silvera replied, placing her hand on Logan's arm. "You good, Mike?"

"I'm good," he said.

"Alright then," Ryan replied, "You two have a good night. I'm heading out." With that, he left the room.

"Mike," Silvera began.

"I'm okay," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, as they walked out of the morgue.

"You sure?"

He looked at her for a moment. He'd done well at keeping his head in the game and even better at keeping his private life private. He knew he was being stupid tonight and figured he owed her an explanation. "She kinda looks like Kate…"

Silvera nodded. "I was thinking that, myself. They've got the same hair color…" she stopped and looked at him. "I didn't wanna say anything, though."

"It's okay," he shrugged.

"This is really eating at you, huh?"

"I'm that transparent?" he laughed.

"Yeah, you are," she fondly replied, then looked at her watch. "Shift's over. Go on…go see her."

"I think I will…"

Apartment of Executive ADA Kate O'Hara

May 12, 2005

11:15 PM

Logan rode the elevator up to the 15th floor of Kate's apartment building. It was late and on some level, he thought he should just go home. But he needed to see her tonight.

Stepping out of the elevator, he walked down the hall to apartment E and knocked. A moment or two later, Kate pulled open the door. She was clad in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, her hair tousled. Despite what she said on the phone, he could tell he woke her up.

"Hi there," she smiled, letting him in. When he called to say he was on his way over, she could hear that there was something wrong. Now, she could see it as well.

"I woke you up," he said, walking into the foyer. "I should go."

"You're here now, stay." She shut the door and placed the dead bolt on it, then turned to find him hanging his suit coat in the closet. "Want a beer or something?"

He shook his head and pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

"Mikey, what's wrong?"

"I'm acting stupid," he replied, stepping back from her.

"Okay, wanna explain that one?" Kate laughed, taking his hand and leading him into the apartment.

"Got a call around 8 tonight, stabbing vic in an alley behind a Chinese restaurant."

"Okay," she prompted, as they sat on the sofa.

"Vic was white female, age 43. Investment attorney." He looked at her. "She was a redhead…kinda built like you…"

"The vic reminded you of me?"

"Yeah, kinda stupid, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that," she said, with a fond smile. "Show's you're thinking about me."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "Those aren't the thoughts I wanted to have." He looked down at the floor, studying the corner of the Oriental rug. "Her hair was the same freaking color as yours…same length. Shit, Katie, for a minute there…"

"What Chinese restaurant?" she asked.

"Kam Fung, this little dive place out on Staten Island…"

"Never heard of it," she said, "Besides, the only little dive Chinese places I go to are in Chinatown."

"I knew that…but…"

"This really rattled you, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did," he looked at her. "Even after I saw her face, I still couldn't shake it off. Silvera picked up on it; she even said the vic looked like you."

"Silvera thought so too? How'd she come up with me?"

"When we were standing in the morgue, Ryan picked up on the way I was reacting and I said the vic reminded me of someone I knew and that it had to be the hair. Guess that's where Silvera came up with the similarity."

"Was she a true redhead?"

He shook his head, "Nah, pubic hair was dark brown."

"Well then, there was your proof that it wasn't me," she slyly said. "You know I'm a true redhead.

He didn't respond. He just stood there, watching her.

"Hey," she said, taking his hands, "its okay. I'm still alive…"

"Its more than that," he began, carefully thinking out what he wanted to say. "The whole thing got me thinking."

"About?"

"You, us…" he stopped, debating whether to go on.

"Mike, talk to me."

"Let's move in together," he quickly said, then looked at her, expectantly.

Kate raised a brow and fought back a smile. "You want to move in together?"

"I do," he nodded.

"And seeing this dead woman who looked like me made you realize that you want to live with me?"

"No, seeing her made me come here in the middle of the night and wake you up to tell you that I want to live with you." He gave her a smile. "I realized that I wanted to move in with you the night after Lennie's funeral."

"Why haven't you brought up the subject of moving in before tonight?"

"I wasn't sure how you felt. I'm still not," he admitted. "I can't read you like I used to. It's not like last time around."

"Of course it's not," she simply said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It can't be. We've got too much history for it to be the same."

"You're avoiding the whole point here. I just asked you to move in with me."

"I know, Mikey," she smiled at him. "I heard what you said." She watched as his features clouded. "I'm not making fun of you…I'm stating a point. Last time around, I was the one to come up with the suggestion of moving in…and I scared the hell out of you, too, if I remember right."

"You were, like I said, I was a moron."

"Nah, you were a typical emotionally stunted male," she dismissed, then, seriously. "Mikey, I love you. I don't think I ever stopped loving you. You make up a whole lot of my history. But there's a lot to moving in together. A lot of things to consider, legally, logistically..."

"Can you stop being a lawyer for a minute?" he laughed. "Maybe you just need to focus on what I said instead of making it a contract negotiation. Katie, I love you, and I think we oughtta move in together."

Kate smiled, "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

"Serious as a heart attack, I meant what I said."

"Say it again," she softly said.

"I love you, and I want to live with you," he replied, sounding more sure of himself.

"I love you, too," she smiled. "And, yeah, I think we should move in together, too."

"Yeah?" he laughed, pulling her into his arms.

"Yeah," she agreed, as the carriage clock on the wall unit struck two. "Damn, it's 2?"

"I should go…let you sleep."

"You should stay," she said, "Sleep with me."

Apartment of Executive ADA Kate O'Hara

May 13, 2007

7:30 AM

Yawning, Logan walked though the apartment, to the kitchen. Kate stood, dressed in a dark suit, reading the newspaper and eating a piece of toast. Hearing him, she looked up. "You have time for a cup of coffee?" she asked.

"Coffee," he agreed, "That would work real well right now." He took the mug she held out to him, then downed half of it.

Kate laughed. "I've got to be in court by 10," she began, rinsing out her mug and leaving it in the sink. "So, I've got to head in and get some stuff done."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

"I like having you here in the morning," she smiled, "I like having you here all night, too."

"I could get used to this…"

"Yeah," she winked, "And we didn't even have sex last night…"

"I'm going to regret saying this, but…it's not all about sex, Katie," he broke into a grin. "Damn, that almost sounded believable."

"And on that note," she said, giving him a quick kiss, "I need to get into the office. And you need to call your landlord about getting out of your lease."

"You sure you want me to move in here?"

"No offense, Mikey, but I'm not moving in to your place and you're here all the time anyways…"

"Guess I'll start bringing stuff over tonight?"

"Aren't you working?"

He shook his head. "I'm working until 7, unless we get a call late."

'Then, I guess you can start bringing stuff over tonight." She picked up her brief case from its spot on the floor. "I'll stop and get a key made for you on the way home."

"I probably should have a key," he agreed, suddenly struck with the realization that he was actually moving in.

"Probably should," she returned, her calm demeanor betraying the nervousness she felt about having him move in. "Lock up when you go, okay?"

"Hey," he said, taking her hand, "Come 'ere." He pulled her into his arms and held her tight, "You're absolutely sure about this?"

Kate slipped her arms around him and gave him a smile, "95 of me is up for this. The other 5...well, I've learned to ignore that other 5." She kissed him. "Now, I need to get to work. Tonight, we'll have dinner here and discuss the practical details of this arrangement…like splitting the rent and the bills and stuff."

"And there's the lawyer I love," he quipped, as she wriggled out of his arms.

"See you tonight, Mikey," she laughed, walking into the foyer. "Don't forget to change your address at work."


	5. Chapter 5

Apartment of Kate O'Hara and Mike Logan

November 24. 2005

5:30 pm

"You really made pumpkin pie?" Logan asked, walking into the kitchen, carrying dirty dishes.

"Yeah, I really did. I told you I was going to make you a traditional Thanksgiving dinner."

"I think we've got enough leftovers to last until Christmas," he remarked, as she cut the rest of the turkey from the bone.

"Nah, you'll take care of this before the weekend's over," she dismissed. "Speaking of Christmas, I wanted to talk to you."

"Uh oh."

"Stop, I'm serious. We need to decide what we're going to do for Christmas."

"I figured we'd exchange presents, eat dinner," he shrugged.

"My father invited us down to Philly," she explained.

"If you want to go down, that's fine. We'll go down."

She shook her head, "I had another idea."

"Wanna share?"

"I was thinking we'd go away for Christmas," she explained, washing her hands.

"Where are we gonna go?"

Grabbing a tea towel, she dried her hands, then turned to face him. "You gave me an idea the other night when we were watching tv."

"You want to go to Gilligan's Island?" he laughed.

"No, wiseass. The other night, when we were watching the original Ocean's Eleven, I started thinking," she smiled at him, "What would you think about Christmas in Vegas?"

He raised a brow. "Vegas?"

"Yeah, Vegas. We can have a Rat Pack Christmas," she excitedly said. "Think about it, Mikey. A long weekend of drunken debauchery. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Yeah," he allowed. "But Vegas?"

"You've never been to Vegas. That's why you don't get it. You'll have a blast."

"Wouldn't it be cheaper to drive down to Atlantic City?"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be as much fun. And it's gonna be just as cold in AC as it is at home. In Vegas it's gonna be in the 70's."

He still wasn't totally sold on the idea, but she seemed excited by it.

"I just really think you'd get a kick out of Vegas, that's all," she shrugged. "Guess it was a crazy idea."

"No," he reasoned. "I don't think it was crazy. I've always wanted to go. Ah, what the hell, let's do it."

Bellagio Hotel and Casino

December 23, 2005

6:30 PM

"Look at us, Mikey," Kate said, walking into the opulent hotel room. "In town for less than a day and we're already up more than thirty grand."

"Yeah, well, sometimes Mr. Unlucky gets lucky," he laughed, as the thrill of winning mixed with the whiskey he'd been drinking and gave him one powerful buzz.

"Mr. Unlucky sits down to play one hand." She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a squeeze. "And five hours later he's got 30K . Shit, I still can't believe you did it and I was sitting right next to you."

"You've been telling me that my luck was changing," he said, kissing her. "I guess I should learn to listen to you, huh?"

"I've been telling you that for years," Kate winked. "Still think this was a stupid way to spend Christmas?

"I never said it was a stupid way to spend Christmas," he dismissed.

"You weren't crazy about my Rat Pack Christmas idea, admit it."

"Okay, I wasn't. But I've changed my mind," he winked at her.

"You know, we really need to get some dinner…"

"Food is highly over rated," he returned, slipping his hands beneath the back of her sweater.

"Mike, I haven't eaten since that bagel at LaGuardia at 6:30 this morning, I'm starving. Besides, we need to celebrate. We should eat something expensive, decadent," She grinned at him, "After all, if we're gonna do this Rat Pack style, then we've got to do it right."

"True Rat Pack style would involve finding an entourage. I'm not in the mood for an entourage."

"Okay, it's more of a Rat Pack of two." She slipped out of his arms again, "Let's go get changed and we can go get something to eat."

Logan watched as she walked off into the bedroom, then turned and smiled at him.

"You coming?"

"In a minute," he nodded, as she disappeared behind the door. He walked to the large window and looked out at the lights of the Vegas Strip.

When he boarded the plane at LaGuardia that morning, he figured that by this time of the night, they'd have blown a couple of hundred dollars on slots and roulette, gotten tired of the casino and be looking for something else to do with their time. Instead, after checking in and getting settled in their room, he sat down at the baccarat table, deciding to play one hand. He left the table five hours later and $31,725 richer.

Logan laughed out loud. Who'd have thought he'd be lucky? But lately things had been on an upswing. He and Katie were getting along great and living together had gone more smoothly than he could have hoped. He'd finally gotten a transfer out of Satan's Island and had been working in the Major Case Squad for three months and he and Barek were falling into a good rhythm as partners. Winning at the baccarat table today was just gravy. He decided that at this moment in time, he had to be the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

Kate walked out of the bedroom ten minutes later to find him standing at the window, looking positively happy. This was a look Mike Logan rarely wore. "Whatever's out there must be good judging by the smile on your face."

"Nah, what's in here is better," he said, turning to face her. She'd pulled up her hair, put on some make up, and was wearing this incredibly hot little black dress.

"Can you zip me?" she asked, walking to him and turning her back to him.

"I'd rather unzip you," he replied, nuzzling her neck.

"We've already addressed this issue, Detective," she smartly said. "I need food."

He zipped the dress, then placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"Do I look okay?"

She always amazed him with how critical she was of her appearance. He often wished she could see herself as he saw her. "You look amazing."

Kate blushed, "Stop."

"No, I won't." He kissed her softly, "You win. I'll get changed. Guess you're expecting me to wear a suit?"

"Did Frank wear anything else?" she winked.

Bellagio Hotel Lobby

10:15 PM

"I think I ate enough for two people," Kate said, as they walked out of the restaurant. "But it was so damn good."

"Where to now?" he asked, taking her hand.

"Let's go do something touristy."

"Like?"

She shrugged, "I dunno."

"We can go see an Elvis impersonator," he wryly suggested.

"Did you know you really can get married by an Elvis impersonator?"

"Hell, you can get married by a Klingon on the bridge of the Enterprise," he teased.

"And you say that like it's a bad thing?" Kate laughed, then, "Although, I've always been curious as to just how trashy those chapels really are."

"Let me guess, you want to go see one?"

"I'd like to, but I figured you'd probably go into shock or burst into flames or something when we walked into the place."

"Very funny, Wise Ass," he laughed, "Come on; let's go see what a Las Vegas wedding chapel really looks at."

She raised a brow, "You're serious."

"I'm serious," he returned, with a smart ass grin, "Now you comin'?"

"Call a cab, Detective."

Bellagio Hotel and Casino

December 23, 2005

11:15 PM

"We're in Vegas," Kate said, stretching out on the snow white Egyptian cotton sheets, "Why are we in bed at 11:15?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired," he admitted, turning on his side to face her. He draped his arm across her stomach and kissed her cheek.

She smiled at him, "You've had a big day, I guess you earned an early night."

"Tomorrow, we'll stay up all night," he promised, then laughed.

"What?"

"I still can't get over the Drive Through Elvis Wedding," he laughed.

"I can't get over how easy it is to get married here," she laughed with him. "Shit, $55 and a trip to the court house and you can go let Elvis do his thing. When I married my ex, we had to do the blood tests, we had to go to the courthouse, wait for the license. We won't even talk about the Pre Cana at the church."

"Hey, it's the church - they want to make sure you really want to do it." He shrugged, then looked at her, "I guess old Ed at the chapel thought he'd talk us into getting married."

"He was a nice guy and you know, that place wasn't too bad. I've been to tackier weddings in South Philly."

"Besides, Frank Sinatra got married there."

"And Jon BonJovi," she added, with a yawn. She turned and kissed him. "Get some sleep, Detective Logan; we've got a full day ahead of us tomorrow."

Sahara Hotel and Casino

December 24, 2005

3:30 PM

"So?" Logan asked, watching as Kate returned from the cashier's window, "What was your take?"

Kate smiled, "$8754. Mikey, we cannot gamble again after tonight. We'll lose it all."

"Trust me, I'm not going near another table," he agreed.

"I'm sure we'll find something else to do," she decided. "Like shop."

"Think we can blow all $8754?"

"Why are we blowing my money?" she returned with a faux glare.

"Because, you've already decided that my money is being used as the down payment for an apartment, remember?"

"I thought that was wise," she decided. "You're not getting any younger and you really do need to own something."

"I thought you were leaving the lawyer in New York," he teased.

"Sorry, she comes out when large sums of money are involved." She thought for a moment. "Well, hell, since we're being so responsible with your money, let's just blow mine."

"Katie, I was kidding," he seriously said.

"I wasn't." She wore a determined look, "Come on, it's Christmas. We're supposed to spend too much money at Christmas, right? So, let's do this right. First thing we're gonna do is buy you an incredible designer suit and get me an equally as expensive dress. Then, we're going to get all dressed up and have dinner."

"Then what?"

"I dunno, I guess we'll just play it by ear."

7:45pm

"Okay," Kate said, setting down her shot glass, "We've got terribly expensive new clothes, we've eaten a dinner that cost about what you make in a week, and I think we've had more to drink in the past 4 hours than we've had in the past year."

"I don't know about you, but this is the best Christmas Eve I've ever had," he laughed.

"Me, too," she admitted, as the bartender brought them another round of beer. "But it's only 7:45. We've still got the whole night ahead of us. What are we gonna do?"

"Go see a show?"

She shook her head, causing the room to spin slightly. "Whoa, note to self: ease up on the alcohol."

"Have I ever told you that I like it when you're drunk?"

"Well, you must be loving it tonight. Now, if we keep sitting here, I'm going to get really lit and it's going to be a very early night. We're in Vegas, Mikey. We're drunk and we've got money to spend." A devilishly challenging expression formed on her features, "If you could any one thing tonight, to make one amazing memory of Vegas, what would it be?"

He thought for a moment, then, before his alcohol slowed brain could stop his mouth, he said, "Let's go back to that chapel and get married."

Kate, who had been taking a mouthful of beer as he spoke, nearly choked. "Get married?"

"Yeah. Hell, if it was good enough for Frank Sinatra…"

"I've got two words for you, Britney Spears," she laughed. He didn't laugh with her, he just looked determined. "You're serious."

"Give me five good reasons why we shouldn't get married," he challenged.

"Five?" The alcohol wasn't allowing her to think clearly. "Wait…let's see..."

"You can't come up with any," he returned, with a smug smile. "Let's get a cab and head back over to the chapel."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, tonight. You know damn well we won't do this sober."

"I guess you're right. You're a marriage-phobe and I don't trust anybody. If we don't do this now, we're gonna end up living together for the rest of our lives."

"That's my point."

"I mean, we're already committed. Both of our names are on the lease, we've got joint credit," she continued, surprised that this whole idea was actually making sense. "We're listed as each other's next of kin, we've listed each other as beneficiaries…"

"The lawyer's back," he teased, causing her to flash him a faux dark look.

"You're right. It does make sense to get married. Of course, it only makes sense now, that we're drunk in Vegas."

"And when we're sober in Manhattan, we just don't get it," he took a long drink of his beer and set the pilsner glass down.

Kate nodded, processing the idea. He was right. This would probably never happen any other way. But, was it really what they wanted? She decided to call his bluff. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, we'll go to the chapel. Let's get a drink for the road because if we sober up, we'll come to our senses and give up this whole insane idea"

Little White Wedding Chapel

December 24, 2005

8:45 pm

"And this one is our most popular package," Ed Blazenski explained, pointing to a page in a white binder. "The Lover's Package comes with your ceremony, music, flowers for the bride and a boutonnière for the groom."

"What about witnesses? We need them right?" Logan asked, studying the book. Either good old Ed was blind or it didn't matter if you were shitfaced when you got married in Vegas.

"They're included," Ed decided.

"So, all we have to do is get a license?" Kate asked, wondering when this went from being a lark to being seriously considered. The warning buzzers in her brain were only slightly less urgent than she imagined they were as the Titanic was sinking, yet she ignored them.

"Yes, and rings," Ed said, "If you choose to wear them."

"And where would we get rings? Are there 24 hour jewelers in Vegas?"

"All of the hotels have gift shops, most with very nice jewelry," Ed offered, then, with a smile, "So? Are you interested?"

"Yeah," Logan decided, "What time can you fit us in?"

"I've got 11:30 open. That will give you plenty of time to get to the courthouse and get your license before it closes for the holiday. For an extra $75, there is a limo available, to take you everywhere you need to go and bring you back to the chapel."

"What the hell? Might as well travel in style, right?" Logan laughed, ignoring the sane rational part of his mind that was telling him to stop give this whole event a whole lot more thought.

"Why not?" Kate laughed with him, "Pay the man, Mikey and let's go get a license before the courthouse closes."

Bellagio Hotel and Casino

December 24, 2005

10:30 pm

"That's the ring," Kate decided, pointing to a diamond eternity ring that sparkled wildly.

"Yeah?" Logan sized it up, "That's the one you want?"

She nodded, sipping from the flute of champagne she held. "That's the one. What about you?"

"I kinda like that one," he pointed to a white gold band in the next case over. "What do you think?"

"I like it," she agreed, watching as the clerk took both rings out of the case. A moment of panic crept in. "We're really doing this aren't we?"

"What? You backing out?" he challenged.

"Who, me?" she shook her head, forcing the panic back down. "Hell no."

"Well then," he sniffed, taking a drink of champagne. "I really hate frickin' champagne."

"Aw, just drink it, we're celebrating," she said, as the store clerk refilled their glasses.

"Wait a minute," Logan said, looking down into the case. "You need an engagement ring."

"Mike…"

"No, I'm not doing this half assed." He pointed to a ring, "Can we see that one?"

"Certainly, Mr. Logan," the clerk smiled, taking the ring from the case. "This is a 2 carat emerald cut diamond, set between two half carat emerald cut blue sapphires. All are set on a white gold band. It fits well with the wedding band you've picked out." The clerk slipped both rings on to Kate's finger.

"Wow," she laughed, "Nice rocks."

"Do you like it?" he asked, watching her expression.

"Hell yeah, who wouldn't like this thing!"

"We'll take them," Logan decided, "Charge them to my hotel account."

"Mike, that money is for your apartment."

"_Our_ apartment and you can't pay for your own engagement ring," he dismissed, killing the glass of champagne in one gulp.

After signing for the rings, they walked out into the ornate lobby of the hotel.

"We are so freaking insane!" Kate laughed, looking at her left hand and her newly purchased engagement ring. "We're getting married on Christmas Eve, in Las Vegas. You do realize that we've totally lost our minds."

"I've been accused of worse," Logan mused as they walked through the lobby.

"We wouldn't be doing this if we were sober," she said for at least the 15th time in the past two hours.

"Good thing we're not sober," he said.

"Wait!" Kate said, stopping in her tracks.

"What?"

"You never actually asked me to marry you. We just mutually decided to do it," she realized.

"You really want me to do the whole proposal thing?"

"You wanna do this, Detective Logan? You've gotta do the whole deal."

Without a moment's hesitation, he went down on one knee and took her hand. "Marry me, Katie?"

Kate laughed, "Stand up."

"Not until you answer me," he insisted.

"Yes, I'll marry you," she laughed, "Now will you stand up? People are staring."

"Good, let 'em stare," he smartly said, then, loudly, "You heard it here first, Ladies and Gentlemen, Kate O'Hara has finally given in and agreed to marry me!"

People around them began to clap and offer congratulations.

"You're absolutely certifiable," she laughed, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

"And that's one of my more endearing qualities," he winked, "Come on, we've got an appointment."

Bellagio Hotel

December 25, 2005

1:30 PM

Kate awoke slowly, wishing the pounding in her head would go away, but knowing it would only increase if she opened her eyes. "God, why did I drink so much?" she moaned, opening her eyes. Spotting Logan, she continued, "And why did you let me drink so much?"

"Ever try to stop a speeding freight train?" Logan replied, carrying in a large glass, "Here."

She sat up and took it, drinking quickly. "Diet Pepsi. You are a God."

"Yeah, you were saying that last night too."

"Oh, yeah? I seem to remember some one calling me their own private porn star…" she laughed, "We were totally out of hand last night."

"Yeah, we were."

She watched as his expression changed. There was something about it she couldn't read. "What? What did we do?" she asked, then slowly it came to her. "Oh my God." She looked down at her left hand to find a diamond and sapphire ring with a matching diamond band. "Oh my God." she repeated, and then looked up at him.

"Yeah, I woke up with one of those, too," he laughed, holding up his hand to reveal what looked like a white gold band.

"Oh my God."

"Come on, Katie, you're a lawyer, I know you can come up with something more eloquent than that."

"Did we really do this?"

He nodded, reaching over to the nightstand and picking up a piece of paper. "The evidence says we did."

Kate snatched the paper from his hand and read it. Sure enough, it was a marriage license, declaring that Michael Francis Logan and Katrina Louisa O'Hara had married on December 24, 2005 in the Little White Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas.

"Oh man," she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the headboard. "We got married in Vegas."

"At least we weren't married by Elvis or a Klingon. Although, I'm surprised you didn't push for the Klingon," he teased.

She opened her eyes and studied him, "You're not upset by this in the least, are you?"

His expression grew serious. "I should be. I've been single my whole damn life."

"Mikey, we can have this annulled."

"It may be twenty years since I set foot in church, but I remember enough to know that there's no annulment involved. If you remember, we consummated the marriage." A sly smile spread across his features, "Many times, in several ways. My personal favorite was the balcony."

Kate winced, "Good damn thing that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

"I don't know about that. I'm thinking we need to have a balcony in this new apartment we're buying."

Kate took another long drink of soda and then looked down at her rings again. As the events of the previous evening slowly returned to her, she remembered walking into the jewelry store between visiting the court house and going to the chapel. She saw the wedding band first and fell in love with it. She thought it would be enough on its own, but he insisted she had a proper engagement ring as well and picked one out for her.

"You're smiling," he said, hoping she'd come around. Truth was, he was glad they got drunk and got married. As abhorrent an idea as marriage had been to him for most of his life, now, it just made sense.

"I was remembering you last night, insisting that I have a proper engagement ring. And going down on one knee to propose in the lobby of the hotel." she reached out and took his hands in hers. "So, are you really up for this?"

"Yeah, I think I am. What about you?"

"If you'd have asked me Friday morning when we got on the plane, I'd have laughed and thought you had lost your mind."

"And now?"

"Well, now, I'm Kate Logan," she smiled, "And I kinda like the sound of it."

"You're going to change your name?"

"I'm married aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are," he smiled, climbing back into bed and pulling her into his arms. He kissed her deeply.

"Shit," she said, suddenly remembering the date, "I didn't get you a Christmas present."

"Yeah you did," he dismissed, kissing her again. "You gave me everything I wanted."

A true smile overtook Kate's features, "Merry Christmas, Mikey."

"Merry Christmas, Katie," he echoed.


	6. Chapter 6

Office of Executive ADA Kate O'Hara

December 28, 2005

9:45 AM

Kate walked into her office and sat behind her desk. As she slipped on her glasses and logged into her email, Casey Novak walked into her office.

"There you are," Casey began with a smile. "I came by half an hour ago and you weren't here."

"I was down at HR," she dismissed. "How was your Christmas?"

"Nice, the whole family got together. It was crowded, noisy…everything it should have been. How was Vegas?"

"Crowded, noisy, everything it should have been," Kate returned with a wry smile.

"And?" Casey prompted, sitting down in the chair in front of Kate's desk. "What did Mike give you for Christmas?"

Kate laughed, "Well…it's not so much what he gave me, as what we gave each other."

"Is this story X rated?" Casey laughed with her.

"Well, there were X rated parts, but I won't get into that. The G rated stuff will curl your hair enough…"

"What did you give each other?"

Kate picked up the silver picture frame on her desk and handed it to Casey.

"Cute, looks like a prom picture," Casey said, studying the shot. Logan was dressed in dark gray suit and Kate was wearing a beautiful deep red silk dress. "I love the dress."

"Thanks," she said, waiting for Casey to realize what she was truly looking at. "He hit at the baccarat table and I hit at the slots. We got some new clothes, did some touristy stuff…"

"Wait. Where was this taken and why are you holding a bouquet? Looks like some kind of wedding. Chapel or something," Casey looked up to find Kate holding her left hand up. Spotting the sparkling rings, her eyes grew wide. "You did not!"

Kate laughed again, "We did."

"Get the hell out of here! You actually got married? How? Where?"

"Christmas Eve at 11:30 pm, at the Little White Wedding Chapel." Kate reported. "He won his money right after we hit town on Friday. I won on Saturday afternoon. After we collected my winnings and had them moved to our hotel account, we started drinking and shopping."

"And thus the clothes," she prompted.

"Yeah, thus the clothes. We ate this amazing dinner that cost more than my car payment, and kept right on drinking. Finally, after our third or fourth shot after dinner, I looked at him and asked him what one thing he would want to do to make an amazing memory of Vegas. We'd stopped by the Little White Wedding Chapel the night before just to see what it looked like and he said that he wanted to go back and get married."

"He suggested it?"

"I nearly choked on my beer. I thought he was bluffing to see how far I would go, so I called his bluff." Kate shook her head. "Honestly, Casey, I kept waiting for him to back out. But he never did!"

"No offense, Kate, but I've heard stories about him," Casey began, "And none of them would ever make me believe that he would want to be married."

"Who are you telling?"

"And he was okay the next morning?"

"He was better with it than I was," she admitted.

"And how about now?"

"He's still fine with it."

"And you?"

"I'm good. I just went down to HR and put in my name change."

"You're so old fashioned," Casey teased.

"Yeah, well…" Kate blushed.

"Well, I'm happy for you guys. You're good together."

"Yeah, I think we are," she agreed.

"Does Jack know?"

"I haven't seen him yet. He wasn't in when I got here."

"He's in his office." Casey stood. "I'm going to get out of here and let you go tell him."

"Yeah, I guess I should, huh?" Kate stood.

"Congratulations, Kate," Casey smiled, "We're going to have to do a happy hour to celebrate."

"Definitely."

"I'll set it up. Are we still on for lunch?"

"I'll meet you in the lobby at one," Kate said, watching as Casey walked off. She took a deep breath, wondering why she was so nervous about telling Jack. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small bag, then made her way down the hall to his office.

She stopped in the doorway. "Hey McCoy," she began, causing him to look up from the paperwork he'd been reading.

"Ms. O'Hara," Jack smiled, "Come on in. How was Vegas?"

"We had a blast," she explained, walking over and sitting on the chair in front of his desk. "Oh, here. Lest I forget, your requisite tacky gift." She handed him the bag.

It had become their tradition over the years to bring each other back one cheap, tacky souvenir when they went away. They tried to out do each other on the tacky scale with each new item.

Jack opened the bag and peered in. "You've outdone yourself this time," he laughed, pulling out a bottle opener. It was shaped like a beer bottle and filled wife various small coins and poker chips. Printed on the bottle were the words "Las Vegas, Nevada."

"You like?"

"It's got a magnet on it! It's going on the refrigerator," he decided.

"It'll fit right in next to the sea shell magnet I brought you from Ocean City, Maryland."

"I think this surpasses the seashell," he decided, slipping it back in the bag and placing the bag in his desk drawer. "Maybe I should lock it in the safe?"

"You may want to, that's a high quality bottle opener." She watched as he shut the drawer. Still nervous, she spoke, "How was your Christmas?"

"Nice, I went to Deanna's family's house," he offered. "How was yours?"

"Good," she nodded.

McCoy knew her well enough to tell that she was holding something back. "What happened?"

"Well, Mike won about thirty grand on Friday."

"Get out! How the hell did he do that?"

"Baccarat."

"I'd have figured him as more of a twenty one player."

"Nope, he was pretty damn good at it," she allowed. "The next day, I won a little over 8 grand on a progressive slot machine."

"Shit, you two fell into the luck, didn't you? I hope you stopped gambling after that."

"You know we did."

"So you spent the next three days spending your money?"

"Sort of," she grew nervous again. "We got some new clothes, had an amazing dinner."

"Drank your asses off," he laughed.

"That too," she allowed.

"You're holding back on something," he knowingly said, then, with a smart ass laugh, he said, "What'd you do? Get married or something?"

"Yeah," she said, her expression serious. "We did."

"Very funny," he laughed. "You honestly expected me to believe Logan would get married."

"He did, Jack," she went on. "After dinner, we were smashed and I asked him to pick one thing we could do to make an amazing memory of our trip to Vegas."

"And he said he wanted to get married?" McCoy didn't even try to hide his disbelief.

"Friday night, we ended up checking out the Little White Wedding Chapel," she explained. "I'd always wanted to see a Vegas wedding chapel, so we went."

"Wasn't that where Frank Sinatra married Mia Farrow?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?"

"I've been to Vegas before," he simply said. "So, let me get this straight. You asked Mike Logan what one thing he'd like to do in Vegas and he said he wanted to get married?"

"Keep in mind, we were plastered," she explained. "He said, he wanted go back to the chapel and get married. I called his bluff, but he wasn't bluffing."

"No shit," he shook his head, "I can't believe it."

"Yeah, I'm still getting used to it myself," she laughed.

"I hope he at least got you a decent ring," he sniffed, trying to process this news, but finding his mind having difficulty accepting it.

Kate stood and walked over to him, then held out her hand.

"Nice," he nodded, surveying the rings. He looked up at her, then, fired a challenge. "Did he go down on one knee?"

Kate smiled. "He did. In the lobby of the Bellagio."

"Come on, you had to have slipped him some GSB or something."

Kate laughed. "Honest to God, Jack. I didn't! This was all him. I kept thinking he'd back out."

"And the next morning?" he asked, waiting to hear that Logan had panicked.

"When I woke up, I was in shock. Never in a million years did I think we'd get married, let alone getting married in Vegas on Christmas Eve."

"And Logan? Did you have to pull him in from the ledge?"

She shook her head. "No, he was actually happy about it." Kate sat on the edge of McCoy's desk. "We called my dad from Vegas…"

"And what did Pat have to say?"

"He told Mike that if he even so much thought of backing out of it, he'd drive up here and kick his ass."

"Well, no offense, Kate, but Pat would have to stand in line."

"Jack," she smiled at him. "You're serious."

McCoy thought for a moment before speaking. "You know that Logan and I have a history…"

"Yes, Jack, I know."

"And he seems to have mellowed a bit. Well, outside of work, at least," he allowed. "But, once a hound always a hound. I should know, I've been running with the Big Dogs since before he knew what to do with a girl."

Kate laughed.

"Just answer me one question," he said, "Is this really what you want?"

"You know me, Jack; I'm not one of those hearts and flowers romantics. All of that mush and fluff makes me gag."

"Yeah, I know," he laughed.

"Anyway, when we started seeing each other again, I was on guard, waiting for something to go wrong. He kept trying and trying." She looked at McCoy. "I would never have even imagined being married to him. Hell, I'd already screwed up one marriage and he would start to sweat if you even mentioned the word. But once we moved in together, things started to change. We had joint credit; we named each other as beneficiary on our life policies…"

"Let's go back to that comment about being romantic," he teased, causing her to flash him a glare. "I'm sorry, go on."

"What I was trying to explain was that except for the vows and the rings, we already had what married couples have," she went on. "We've been monogamous since the night of Lennie's funeral. Hell, he broke off his steady hook up relationship the day after Lennie Briscoe's funeral."

"Shit, he broke it off with the fall back girl for you right away?" McCoy was impressed. "I didn't realize he was that serious."

"He was."

"But, you still haven't answered my question," McCoy said, as if addressing a witness. "Is this what you really want for the rest of your life?"

"It is," she seriously said, then, with an impish smile, "I'm even changing my name."

"Get out!" he laughed. "You're brave."

"Yeah, well…"

"Of course, it will probably help him out to have a DA in the family."

"What? Next time he decides to deck a politician?" Kate replied with a laugh.

He studied her for a moment, then, "You look like you're happy."

"I am."

"Well then," he stood up, "I'm happy for you." He hugged her.

Once they separated she smiled at him. "Casey's planning a happy hour already."

"Of course, we need to drink to this…"

"You'll be there?"

"I wouldn't miss it." He winked at her. "Tell your husband to be there, too. I'd like to buy him a drink."

"And issue a death threat?"

"Kate, what you must think of me."

Apartment of Mike and Kate Logan

December 28, 2005

7:30 pm

Logan let himself into the apartment and shut and locked the door. He took off his leather coat and hung it in the closet, then paused. Hearing the radio playing in the kitchen, he walked that way.

As he entered the kitchen, he found Kate standing at the stove. She'd changed from her suit to a pair of jeans and one of his old button front shirts. Her hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail. She looked comfortable and relaxed as she puttered about the kitchen.

"Hey," he said, causing her to turn to face him.

"I was wondering if you'd be home in time to eat," she began, stepping to him.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.

"I stopped and picked up take out from Tonelli's," she sheepishly said. "We need to get groceries."

"Tonelli's is fine," he replied.

"This is our first official meal at home since we got married," she mused. "I probably should have cooked it."

He held her at arms length and looked at her.

"What?"

"You're concerned about our first official dinner at home since we got married?" He gave her a wry smile. "Who are you and what did you do with Kate?"

"Very funny, Wise Ass," she laughed, squirming out of his arms. "See if I ever try to do anything fuzzy and romantic again." She bent and took containers out of the oven. "I got pasta primavera."

"Works for me," he nodded. "Do I have time to get changed?"

"Make it fast."

Kate set the table and then transferred the food from the take out containers to serving bowls. As she brought it all out to the table, Logan walked into the room. He noticed what she'd done.

"You didn't have to put in bowls," he smiled, appreciating the effort.

"I did," she blushed. "I'm being a sap, huh?"

"Nah, you're being a good little wife," he teased, drawing a punch in the arm. "Ouch."

"Be a good little husband and sit down and eat, would ya?" she deadpanned, sitting at the table. She watched as he sat and picked up the bowl of pasta. "How was work?"

He shrugged, "Barek and Eames said to tell you Congratulations…or was it Best Wishes, I can't remember which one they said was the proper thing to say to the bride. They debated it for a good half an hour before Goren set them straight."

"Why don't I doubt that Goren would know that," Kate laughed.

"Goren's a freaking genius," Logan dismissed. "How'd things go for you?"

"I put in my name change," she began, twirling some fettuccini around her fork. "In 72 hours, the State of New York will be making my pay check out to Katrina O'Hara Logan." She looked at him, "That's one hell of a mouthful, you know that?"

"You really gonna use that?"

She shrugged, "It'll be on my business cards and all, but since most people know me as Kate, I'll probably just end up as Kate Logan."

He nodded, chewing a mouthful of bread. Once he swallowed, he asked, "So, how'd McCoy take the news?"

"He thought I was bullshitting him. Once he realized that I was serious, he asked me if this was what I really wanted for the rest of my life. Once I told him that it was, he gave me a hug and said he was happy for me." She smiled at him, "Casey set up a happy hour for the 6th at Patrick Henry's. Can you come down or are you working late shift?"

"I'm on days," he replied, then, with a sarcastic smile, "You mean the DA's office is inviting a lowly detective to happy hour?"

"Wise ass," she returned with a faux glare. "Yes, you're invited."

"Guess I'll be there, then."

10:00 pm

"Look at us, Mikey," Kate yawned, as she turned off the bedside lamp. "In bed at 10 o'clock. God, we really are an old married couple."

"Hell, my body's still recovering from last weekend. It's been a long time since I've run at that pace," he dismissed, pulling her into his arms and kissing her softly. "Love you."

"Love you, too," she smiled. "Tell me something."

"What?"

"Still think we did the right thing?"

"Absolutely," he firmly said.

She shook her head, "I'm still amazed by all of this. You're just so...at peace with all of this."

He shrugged. "What can I say? It feels right."

She kissed him softly.

"What about you?" he quietly said. "Is this really what you want for the rest of your life?"

"Yeah, it is," she replied. "You do realize we're gonna be stuck with each other for a damn long time, don't you?"

Kissing her, he replied. "I wouldn't want it any other way."


	7. Chapter 7

O'Hara's Pub

Philadelphia, PA

December 31, 2005

10:45pm

Mike Logan was not a person who usually enjoyed big family gatherings. Most of the major family events he attended while he was growing up centered on funerals. As a kid, it didn't much matter. He and his cousins would eat, then ditch whatever somber gathering the adults had and go cause trouble some where in the neighborhood.

By the time he hit his teens, his mother started to avoid family gatherings, preferring instead to simply drink herself into oblivion so as not to have to deal with whatever holiday, celebration, or death was the cause of the gathering. Logan would still duck out of the house, but instead of harmless fun with his cousins, he'd run with the other kids in the neighborhood and cause more destructive trouble.

Mike supposed that on some level, he missed the fun of eating til you burst, sneaking booze after the adults were already half crocked, and the delicious thrill of running the streets to all hours of the night with his cousins, doing nothing more dangerous than tossing rocks at the passing El train.

As he sat in Pat O'Hara's restaurant, recalling childhood memories with Patty, Kate's oldest brother, Logan found himself wanting to talk Patty into swiping a bottle of Jamison's and heading out to throw rocks at the passing trains. Funny thing was, Patty would probably have gone with him.

Despite the fact that they grew up 100 miles apart, they both grew up as city kids in the same era. Patty was two months younger than Mike, they both graduated the same year and to top it off, Patty was a Homicide Detective in Philly. Of all of Kate's family, he'd always been closest to Patty.

"Mikey," Kate said, walking over to him and slipping her arms around him. "Are you having a good time?"

"Yeah," he returned, kissing her. "What about you?"

"I can't believe Pop turned New Years Eve into a wedding party for us."

"I know, they went all out," he agreed. "This is one hell of a party."

"Yeah, well," she kissed him again. "I guess this one's been in the works for years, huh?"

"I guess it has," he kissed her.

"Get a freakin' room, would ya?" Kate's brother Johnny groused.

"Pay no attention to the troll I call a brother," Kate dismissed with a playful twinkle in her eye, "He's just jealous."

"Yeah, cuz I really wanna swap spit with Mike," Johnny groused.

"So, what the hell was so important that you had to interrupt me making out with my husband?" Kate returned in kind.

"Denis has decided it's time for the O'Hara Brothers Shot," he informed.

"Ah…" Kate released Mike, "One of the few times I'm one of the Brothers. I'll be back in a minute, Mikey" She grinned, then, loudly, "Come on, O'Hara Boys, Irish Car Bomb's all around!" She pecked Logan's cheek and walked off to where Patty and Denis were waiting at the bar.

Logan studied them for a moment. He'd seen pictures of Kate's mom and he could see that all four of the children had inherited Mrs. O'Hara's brown eyes, but that's where the similarities ended. Kate and Patty got Pat Sr's red hair, while Johnny got his mother's dark hair and Denis, for some reason was a sandy blond. Denis and Pat both topped off around 5'9", roughly the same height as Pat, Sr. He was told that Mrs. O'Hara was barely over five feet tall, so Logan couldn't figure out how Kate ended up at 5'10" and Johnny stood 6'1". Must be the same place Denis got that blond hair, he mused.

"Come on, Mike," Johnny called, "Get your Irish ass over here and join us."

"Yeah, consider this your initiation into the O'Hara's," Denis laughed.

Logan walked over to join the group. He remembered most of the story of the Irish Car Bomb tradition, having it heard it years ago. As he recalled, Patty picked up the recipe while bartending in college and turned the rest of the brood onto the drink at his college graduation party. It became a tradition for the four of them to do one at each family party. So far, as Logan knew, no one but the four of them, and occasionally, Pat Sr, was allowed to participate in the ritual.

"Wait a minute, you're letting me in on this?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"Well," Patty began, watching as the bartenders set up a shot glass in front of each of them. "See, the tradition was supposed to be just the O'Hara Brothers doing this…"

"But this one," Denis added, jerking a thumb at Kate, "Decided she could hang with the boys."

"Please" Kate sniffed, "I hang longer and lower than all of you."

"Anyway," Patty continued, picking up a bottle of Jamison's and filling each shot glass halfway. "We figure that by proxy, you're an O'Hara Brother now…" He handed Logan a bottle of Baileys' Irish Crème. "Go on…fill the rest of the shot glasses."

Logan took the bottle, realizing the significance of this action and, with reverence, topped off each shot glass. As he set the bottle down, they all lined up in front of the shot glasses and set their half full pints of Guinness down on the bar.

"Now…" Kate said, "We've got to do this right." She lifted her shot glass and watched as her brothers lifted theirs in unison, with Logan following a second behind.

"You know how to do the drinking part," she explained to him, "But before we drink, we recite the Irish Blessing. That used to go over really big when my Uncle Angelo, the priest was still alive. You do remember the Irish Blessing, don't you, Mikey?"

"How can I forget? You've got it framed in the bathroom," he playfully sniffed.

"I'll ignore that," she shot, then, "Ready guys?"

They all nodded, then, loudly, with a faux seriousness that bordered on sarcasm, began to recite, "May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand." The O'Hara's then broke into broad grins and added, "Fuck all that, let's drink!"

Simultaneously, they dropped the shot's into the beer, lifted the glass and downed the drink, slamming the glass back on the bar when they were done.

"Okay…it's official," Denis said, clapping Logan on the back, "He's one of us."

January 1, 2006

12:30 am

Logan sat at the far end of the bar, eating a meatball sandwich and watching while Kate danced with her Uncle Carmine. Uncle Carmine was from her mom's side of the family, the Cataldi's. They were just as loud and crazy as the O'Hara's and despite the years that had passed since Kate's mother's death, the two families still remained tight knit. Although he hated to admit it, Logan sometimes envied Kate's big noisy family.

"Mike," Pat, Sr, began, sitting next to him. "How're ya doin'?"

"Good, Pat," Logan said, as he swallowed his mouthful.

"Glad to see you're eating," he nodded, studying his new son-in-law.

"The food's great," Logan hated the strange, nervous feeling that was creeping up on him. He was starting to feel like a teenage kid meeting his girlfriend's father for the first time. "Thanks for putting all of this together for us."

Pat held up a hand, "My only daughter got married," he dismissed. "I had to throw a party."

Logan watched Kate try to follow her uncle through the steps of the Alley Cat.

Pat followed his gaze and studied his her for a moment, then turned back to Logan. "She's happy."

"She is," he agreed, wondering how long it would take Pat to issue the death threat that he'd already received from Kate's three brothers, Uncle Carmine, and a few other male family members that he couldn't identify.

"Mike," he began, choosing his words carefully. "I know it's none of my business, but I worry about my girl. She might be an Executive Assistant to the District Attorney and be able to bust some balls in the courtroom, but I still see her as the five year old who cried when her brothers wouldn't let her play stick ball."

Logan smiled at the image and waited for Pat to continue.

"She tells me you heard the whole story of her and Nick," he mentioned Kate's ex husband. "They were too freaking young, she had her mind made up to go to Law School and Nick couldn't handle the thought of a woman who would have a career of her own. He cheated on her and messed with her head." He shook his head. "But Katie held her own. I'd hoped she would come home. But she got a good job and made her career in New York. When you two started seeing each other the first time, I had my reservations. I was a cop most of my life, I couldn't figure out why in the hell she'd want to get involved with a cop." He laughed, causing Logan to laugh with him. "Yeah, it ain't easy. But, you know, she seemed happy and you seemed like a decent guy."

Logan knew what came next and he braced for the impact.

"What happened between you back then, I can't speak of. I wasn't there. I heard Katie's side of the story and was too pissed to hear yours. But you know what? I didn't need to. I never cheated on my Marie, but I know a lot of guys who did cheat. They all got their reasons. My Patty, did it and that's why he's divorced. So, who am I to say?"

"Pat," Logan began, but Pat cut him off.

"I'm not askin' to hear your confession, Mike, that's water under the bridge. Katie's forgiven you, that's all that matters. That girl can hold a grudge," he said, pride tingeing his words. "By now, I'm sure she's taken you to hell and back for it, there ain't much more I can do to you. Although, I did have to hold back the Three Stooges over there. They were ready to pack up the car and ride up to help you see the error of your ways."

"Thank you for saving my ass," Logan laughed.

"Like I said, I'm sure my daughter did enough damage on her own, broken bones weren't necessary," he shook his head. "I gotta admit, I was kinda concerned when she said she was seeing you again." His voice grew quiet, but firm. "She had her doubts, but I guess you proved to her that this was the right thing to do." He fixed Logan with a pointed stare, "I was married to my Marie for twenty three years before she died. I may have been an asshole for twenty two of them, but she knew how much I loved her. I told her every morning when we woke up and every night before we went to sleep. I would lay down my life for her and those kids without a second thought. She told me, right before she died, that she never once doubted how much I loved her and she knew I would be by her side until the end." He stopped, reigning in his emotions. "Look, I ain't no poet or romantic guy and I don't see you spoutin' love songs either."

"Far from it," Logan agreed with a laugh.

"Which is a good thing, cuz Katie ain't the type to buy into that bullshit," Pat laughed, "Yeah, I can tell by that smile that you know what I mean. Just don't think that you don't have to try to do it. Marie once told me she hated the mushy stuff, but the few times I managed to pull it off…it worked like a charm. Ah, I don't know why I'm tellin' you all this. You've been with her a long time, you don't need any lessons on her and you could probably teach me a few things. Alls I'm trying to say to you is, she loved you and you broke her heart. She's forgiven you and obviously still loves you. Don't break her heart again. She's been through enough shit in her life. She doesn't deserve more."

"Pat," Logan seriously said, "I know I screwed up and hurt her. I didn't mean to, but I did it just the same. If I could take it all back, I'd do it in a heart beat. But you know what? I never stopped loving her, even when she hated my guts. I never thought she'd give me a second chance. But she did, and I know how lucky I am to have her back. I'm not going to screw it up again."

"I like you, Mike. So do my boys. You fit in well with the whole motley gang," Pat said, placing a hand on Logan's shoulder. "But understand this, no matter how much we all like you; we won't hesitate to fuck you up if you break Katie's heart again." Pat gave him a broad grin. "Now, do we have an understanding?"

"Yeah, Pat," he nodded, "We definitely do."

"Good, then let me buy my son-in-law a shot of Irish whiskey," he said, standing.

Lowes Philadelphia Hotel

1200 Market Street

Philadelphia, PA

January 1, 2006

3:05 am

"You," Kate began, kicking off her pumps, "Are drunk."

"And you're not?" Logan replied, pulling off his tie and throwing it onto the dresser.

"Don't change the subject, Detective. You were actually standing outside in the middle of Cottman Avenue with my three loser brothers singing _Come on, Eileen_ to my Aunt Eileen…" She laughed.

"Now wait a minute there, Mrs. Logan," he returned in kind, trying to pull off his shoes and finding his balance severely impaired. He sat down on the end of the bed and continued to speak while he removed the shoes. "Let's talk about singing…what about you and Uncle Carmine getting up, stealing the microphone from the dj and singing Mambo Italiano."

"Yeah, but I always do goofy shit like that," she dismissed; unzipping her black dress and letting it fall to the floor. "You," she said, fond smile firmly in place, "Were just one of the boys tonight."

"You complainin'?" he asked, taking her hand and pulling her into his lap.

"Not for a second," she returned, as he put his arms around her. Draping her arms around his neck, she kissed him.

"Do you realize that we've been back together a whole year now?"

"Yeah, I realize that."

"Every now and then, I have to stop and remind myself it's only been a year. We've come a long way since that night at the 3030."

"Yeah, we have. Hell, now I'm officially one of the O'Hara Boys," he teased.

"Did you really enjoy yourself tonight?"

"Yeah, I did," he admitted.

"You and Pop had a heavy conversation," she asked, hoping he'd pass on some of the details. "Did he threaten your life?"

"Nah, Pat and I have an understanding."

"Let me guess, you hurt me, he hurts you?"

"Basically, yeah," he nodded, then, "He was talking about your mother."

Kate smiled, "They really loved each other. They fought, they fussed, but when it came down to it, they loved each other like crazy. At the very end, he took time off of work and stayed with her. He's this big macho guy without a romantic bone in his body and you should've seen him taking care of her. He'd bathe her, dress her, and fix her hair. Mom always had to have her nails done and towards the end, she didn't want anybody outside of the family to see her, so Pop would do her nails too." She smiled, although there were tears in her eyes. "One of the last things Mom said to me was that she wanted me to find a guy like that."

"He really loved her," Logan seriously said. "He still does."

Kate was surprised not only by what he said, but by they way it affected him.

"What?" he asked with a grin, "Didn't think I could understand something that romantic?"

"If you'd have asked me that a month ago, I'd have said yes," she honestly said. "But after Vegas, I realized that you've got this deeply hidden romantic thing going."

"Who me?"

"Yeah, you," she returned, then, "Okay, come on, do something immature to prove to me that you haven't turned into a total Fabio or something."

As his grin turned into a leer, he reached behind her and unhooked her lace bra. After slipping the straps from her shoulders he tossed it across the room. He buried his face between her breasts and moved his head from side to side rapidly.

Kate laughed loudly. "A motorboat? That's all you got, Logan?" she challenged, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

"I haven't even started," he returned, pulling her back down and onto the bed. With one quick motion, he turned them, so that he was leaning over her. With an evil grin, he tickled her sides, causing her to squirm and squeal with laughter.

"Stop!" she laughed, "Mikey!"

"Am I being immature enough for you?"

"Yes!"

"Good, time to grow up." He kissed her deeply, then pulled back and studied her face. "I love you Katie Logan."

"I love you, too," she replied, slipping her hand behind his head and pulling him back down for another kiss.


End file.
